


Touché

by TheZpart



Series: Touché-Verse and Associated Prompts [1]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: (gay is an umbrella term here), Alternate Universe - Fencing, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drama, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, F/M, Fencing, Found Family, Friendship, Jewish!Angus, Jewish!Barry, Julia Burnsides Lives, M/M, Slice of Life, Some Fluff, Some angst, Sports, amtguard, lots of cameos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2020-08-19 10:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 50
Words: 104,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20207920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheZpart/pseuds/TheZpart
Summary: After two years, College freshman Barry Bluejeans returns to fencing to try and get in shape. He doesn't expect to become the chauffeur for the Starblaster high school team, to get roped into not-technically-larping, or help this kid study for his Bar Mitzvah. He certainly didn't expect to find a community--or to fall in love.Meanwhile, Taako is pining for a hot dancer boy, Lup is planning her escape, Magnus is helping overthrow the student council at a school he doesn't even go to, Mavis is fighting with her father, Angus is desperate for a mystery to solve, and Lucretia--well, it's hard to know exactly what's going on with Lucretia.It's a TAZ High School-ish Fencing AU! There's a lot going on.





	1. Chapter 1

Barry had to psych himself up before opening the door.

Actually, he’d had to psych himself up before every step he’d taken from his car to the door. And, if he were being honest, before getting out of the car. And before parking. And before leaving his dorm. But his mom was worried that he would stop moving his body entirely in college, and so he’d promised her he’d get back into fencing. He used to be pretty all right at it, before six APs worth of homework made him quit all his clubs Junior year. Surely he remembered enough to not embarrass himself today.

Surely.

A little bell tinkled as he stepped into the waiting room of the small dance studio where fencing classes were held. It was an eclectic place, full of mismatched chairs and dance magazines, with posters from old shows and weird, textured-looking paintings hanging on the wall. There were two changing rooms with patterned curtains, both drawn. A boy with dark skin and dreads pulled back in a pony tail who looked to be only a little younger than himself—maybe seventeen?—sat in one of the chairs with his feet tucked under him, half-hidden behind a large sketchpad. Barry guessed he was a dancer, since the fencers seemed to be out in the studio proper.

The studio was no less odd than the waiting room. Though the wood floor gleamed in the florescent lights, and the wall of mirrors reflected them, the dark purple walls made it look like he was about to step into a dungeon. Huge paper butterflies hung from the ceiling, and props from old performances, including a foam seahorse head nearly as tall as he was, lurked in the space between the barre and the wall.

Just as strange were the assortment of fencers who gathered by the barre, chatting and stretching idly. There were two fair skinned, blond teenagers who looked so alike they could only be twins, one with his hair in a long braid, the other in the process of gathering her shoulder-length curls into a pony tail. Beside them, gesturing hugely, was a broad-shouldered boy with light brown skin and a nicked eyebrow. Broad-shouldered maybe didn’t cut it—the boy wasn’t especially round, but he was the widest person Barry had seen outside of, like, professional wrestlers. Beside him, with wide eyes taking in his every move, was a dark skinned boy of maybe twelve, wearing wire-rimmed glasses that took up his whole face. Standing a bit apart were two adults, a short, round man and a tall, willowy woman. He was bad at guessing adults’ ages, but he thought they were probably both in their late forties or early fifties.

Behind him, the curtain to one of the dressing rooms burst open, and a stocky, freckled girl of maybe fourteen emerged, thumbs tucked in the suspenders of her fencing knickers. The round man lifted a hand to her, but she ignored him, going to stand with the other teenagers.

Barry was already in his fencing whites, so he wasn’t able to hide in the dressing roomuntil class started. The thought of going up to the other students and trying to talk to them made him faintly nauseous. Maybe he could take a really long time changing his shoes.

The other dressing room opened, and a whip-slender man with red hair and a sharp goatee stepped out. As soon as he saw Barry, he approached him and held out his hand. “You must be our new student!” he said. “I’m Davenport, the instructor. We’ve emailed.”

“Yes.” Barry shook Davenport’s hand. For such a small man, he had an impressively firm grip. “It’s good to meet you.”

“I understand that you were a little apprehensive about jumping straight in to the intermediate class after your time away. If the class is moving too fast for you or if we’re practicing a move you’re unfamiliar with, just let me know and I’ll make sure you get the support you need.”

“Thank you.” Barry knew he was bright red, but there was nothing he could do about that now.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to the other students!”

——

“Who’s that with Cap’nport?” said Magnus,pointing at the doughy, nervous-looking boy shaking hands with Davenport.

Lup spared a glance over her shoulder, but only a brief one. “Dunno. He looks like a nerd.”

“We’re in a fencing class,” Taako pointed out. “It kind of comes with the territory.”

“Not a cool nerd, obviously. A _nerd_ nerd.”

Magnus turned to Angus. “Is he from the beginner class?”

Angus shook his head. “I’ve never seen him before.”

Mavis said, “Maybe he joined over the summer and got moved up, like Davenport did with Merle.”

“But he did that because of you,” said Magnus. “If none of us know him, why would he be fast-tracked?”

“Maybe Lucretia knows him,” said Taako.

All of them looked over at Lucretia, who was listening as Merle told her some story that involved a lot of hand gestures. They’d been fencing with her for years now, but they barely knew her. She was a nice lady, a little serious, but she almost never talked about herself.Maybe that would change now that there was another grown up in the class, Magnus thought. He still felt bad for Mavis, though. Having to fence with your ex-step-dad couldn’t be anything but painfully awkward.

Davenport was leading the boy over to them now. Boy might not be quite the right word for him, although man didn’t really fit either. He was older than Magnus—college aged, maybe?—but definitely not a grown up.

“This is Barry,” Davenport said, addressing all of them. They turned to listen to him almost instinctively; they’d been doing it for years. “He’s new to town and has taken a few years off of fencing. I trust you’ll make him feel welcome. Barry, this is Magnus—” Magnus raised a cheerful hand, “—Lup, Taako, Angus, Mavis, Merle, Lucretia.” He indicated each of them as he said their names, and they all nodded or waved at him. Taako and Lup did so disinterestedly—they never bothered caring about new people until they proved they were worth the twins’ time—but Angus was nearly bouncing up and down with excitement.

“Alright,” Davenport said with a glance at the clock, “start warming up.”

——

Warm ups involved running in a circle around the studio, switching directions whenever Davenport called, “Reverse!” The first time, Barry didn’t react fast enough, and nearly collided with the boy Davenport had called Taako, who shot him a dark look. They grapevined and skipped around the room too. The broad boy, Magnus, seemed to delight in getting as much air on each skip as possible. Then there were stretches, which were embarrassing. Just two years ago, Barry could have touched his toes from any position, but now he was lucky to get to his mid-calf. Merle was having trouble too. Lup’s torso was completely parallel with her legs, and her whole palm was on the floor. That didn’t seem possible.

Next, Davenport lined them up facing the mirrors and called out commands. “Advance! Parry two! Retreat! Retreat! Lunge!” As they followed his instructions, Barry struggling to keep up with the pace, Davenport issued corrections. “Knees bent, Merle. Lup, don’t forget to threat. Would you fire a gun without aiming it first? Magnus, keep your weight in the middle. Angus, watch your four, you’ll still get hit like that.”

Barry got his share of reprimands, too. His knees weren’t bent enough, he over-lunged, he kept letting his back hand hang in front of his body, he didn’t retreat when he parried, he mixed up the parries for two and eight. That last one was particularly embarrassing. He hadn’t gotten his parries mixed up since his first year, but he was flustered from trying to keep up and the knowledge that everyone else in class had noticed how shit he was.

He was beet-red and pouring off sweat when Davenport said, “Suit up. We’re going to do some partner drills.”

Oh god, partner drills. Couldn’t he just die instead?

About half the class headed into the back room, which Barry saw was full of costumes and, apparently, spare fencing gear. He went back to the waiting room, where he’d left his old gear. He realized with cold fear that he hadn’t tried it on before coming. What if it didn’t fit him anymore? He didn’t think he’d gained that much weight, but—

“Hey!”

Barry’s head snapped up to see Magnus squatting next to him, rummaging in his own bag. “Um, hi.”

“You want to be partners?”

“Sure.”

“Cool.” Magnus bundled up his gear and went to dress by the twins, who were among the students who had gone to the back.

Well, at least he didn’t have to worry about finding someone to work with. And his jacket was a bit snug, but it still zipped.

This was fine.

He was fine.

The drill was fairly straightforward, and one he’d done before. One partner alternated attacking in six and four, and the other one parried and retreated until they reached the far wall. Then they would switch roles and make their way back to the other side. Magnus asked Barry, “Do you want to attack first, or should I?”

Barry shrugged.

“Okay, I’ll start then.”

Davenport gave the command, and they started.

Barry at least parried in the right direction this time, but Magnus’s legs were long, and Barry didn’t retreat enough, so they wound up too close together and had to reset twice. When they switched, Barry was so worried about over-lunging that he wound up not going far enough.

“Don’t be scared of hitting me,” Magnus said. “I can take it.”

God, he must look like a limp noodle. “I’m not scared,” he said, and immediately regretted it. “I’m just—I misjudged the distance.”

“That’s cool. Do you want to just do a few lunges to like get your feet under you? I won’t parry.”

“That’d be really helpful, actually.”

So Magnus stood there and let Barry hit him, which was also embarrassing, but probably necessary, and when Barry was hitting him pretty consistently, they got back into the exercise. They only made it halfway back before Davenport called time. They were to find different partners and do the same drill, this time using two and eight as their targets.

“Will you practice with me, sir?” It was the boy with the glasses, Angus.

“Yeah, sure,” Barry said. “And I’m just Barry. You don’t have to call me sir.”

“I know, sir!” Angus grinned at him.

This set of drills went more smoothly, and Barry almost let himself think that he had his feet under him, until Davenport came by and corrected his form in seven different ways.

Finally, it was time to fence. Davenport pulled Barry aside. “Do you have any experience in judging?”

“Not really. My last place mostly did electric.”

“Well, we’re dry here. Judging is pretty straightfoward. Stay three feet behind your fencer and watch their opponent. When you see a hit of any kind, raise your hand. If they get hit inside the seams of their jacket, say yes. If they’re hit anywhere else, say off target. If it’s a miss, say no.” He clapped Barry on the shoulder. “You’ll figure it out.”

Davenport turned to address the whole class. “Lup, Taako, you’re up first. Mavis, Magnus, you’re on deck. Everyone else is judging.”

Magnus called out, “Hell yeah, fratricide!”

“Is it still fratricide if you kill your sister?” Angus asked.

“No,” said Lup picking up her foil, “but it’s still what’s about to happen.”

The class let out a chorus of “Oooo”s, even Lucretia.

“Wanna bet?” asked Taako, but he was grinning.

Barry took up a position behind Lup, with Lucretia on her other side. Across the room, Merle and Angus flanked Taako. The twins saluted each other (Taako added a little bow), then put on their helmets and settled into position.

“En garde,” said Davenport. “One, two, three, _fence!_”

For a moment, neither of them moved, and it was like the room was holding its breath. Then Lup shot forward, and the match began.

At first, it was all Barry could do to keep up with the action and be able to give a coherent answer when Davenport called on him. The twins were _fast_, pushing each other up and down the strip, blades flashing quicker than Barry could comprehend. But around the time they were tied 3-3, he began to pick out their individual styles. Lup almost always made the first move, but Davenport was right, she forgot her threats, and missed more than she hit. She made up for it by attacking _a lot_ and pulling back to parry as fast as she’d lunged. Taako tended to retreat too far before reposting, giving her too many opportunities to press her attacks, but he was more accurate than his sister, and every bit as fast. Barry also got the distinct sense that the two of them were showing off. There was no real reason for that to be a ballestra instead of an advance, no reason to be quite that loopy with that disengage. It looked damn good, though, and Barry found himself grinning along.

In the end, Lup won with a hard-fought 5-4. “Fratricide!” she announced, pulling off her mask. Taako rolled his eyes at her.

They saluted and shook hands, and traded places with Magnus and Mavis.

“Barry, Merle, you’re on deck,” said Davenport, and Barry’s stomach dropped. This was it.

Well, not quite it. First, he had to stand awkwardly by this middle aged man and wait for the bout to be over. Were they supposed to talk? Were they supposed to not talk? He should have been paying attention to what Magnus and Mavis were doing while they were on deck. Now, the two of them faced off on the strip. Davenport called, “Fence!” and Magnus exploded forward,lunging and relunging, disengaging faster than Mavis could parry. She sped backward but soon found herself pressed against the end of the strip, and Magnus’s blade caught her in the shoulder. The judges’ hands shot up, and Davenport called the point for Magnus.

From beside him, Merle called, “You got this, Mavey!”

Even behind her mask, Barry could see Mavis roll her eyes.

They reset in the middle, and Magnus tried the same attack again, but this time, Mavis was ready. She caught his sword in a big swooping parry and reposted. It was a straightforward attack, and Magnus should have been able to parry it, but he’d overcommited to his lunge and basically impaled himself on her sword.

“That’s my girl!” Merle said.

Mavis eventually won the bout 5-3. Barry expected Magnus to be frustrated after losing to a girl half his height, but when he pulled off his mask, he was beaming. “Good game, Mighty Mouse,” he said to her as they shook hands.

“So the student has become the teacher,” she said solemnly, and they both burst out laughing.

And then it was Barry’s turn.

The first thing Barry learned about Merle as a fencer was that he didn’t know what he was doing. Probably, that was why Davenport had put them together. They were a good match—Merle lifted his whole body every time he took a step, telegraphing exactly when and where he was going to attack, and Barry was still too slow to parry it. He winced every time Merle lunged at him, and he knew his repostes were too weak to get him anywhere, but he couldn’t seem to make himself more aggressive. He remembered he used to be timid like this back when he first started fencing. He’d thought he’d outgrown it. Guess not.

Eventually, Barry did win 5-4, but it was not a win he was proud of. He expected Merle to be similarly disgruntled, but again, when he took off his mask, he was smiling. What was with this place that everyone kept having such a good time? The fencing school he’d grown up in had been friendly, of course, but it had been intensely competitive too. Someone left crying every week. Maybe that was the case here too, but the crying person would just be him.

Angus and Lucretia went next. Theirs was a slower bout—Angus was still growing into his limbs and Lucretia’s seemed to pain her—but a neat one. What the pair lacked in speed they made up for in careful bladework and clever strategy. Angus used these incredible flying lunges to cover half the strip in one go, but Lucretia parried fast and hard, practically swatting him from the air. She beat him 5-2, but at no point was Barry sure she was going to win.

Davenport checked the clock and said, “We have time for one more bout. Who wants to go?”

“Me,” said Lup. She snatched her sword from where it was leaning against the barre and pointed it directly at Barry. “I want to fight him.”

Everyone turned to look at Barry. “O-Okay,” he said, because what else could he say?

It was a rout, of course. Barry was proud of himself for scoring even one point on her. Still, it was a more fun bout than the one with Merle, and he found himself fencing better just to try to keep up with her. Every time he parried one of her attacks, she would grin at him from behind her mask, and he kept grinning back. He moved faster than he had all day. And when it was finally over and he was fully vanquished, he was still smiling when he pulled off his mask.

She went to shake his hand, flyaway hairs sticking to her sweaty forehead, chin tilted back in laughter at a joke Barry hadn’t caught.

_She’s beautiful,_ he thought, and then, _oh, fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter count is a total guess, but this is gonna be a long one. The game plan is to post chapters every Sunday until we get to the end, but uh, we'll see how this whole schedule thing goes. Hope you all like it!
> 
> Find me on tumblr @The-Z-Part!


	2. Chapter 2

Lup was almost the last person to leave the studio. Usually she was dressed before Taako, but she’d worn tights today and wasted a whole bunch of time fighting a pointless battle to get them back on her sweaty legs. Eventually she balled them up, shoved them in her backpack, and left the changing room. Taako was siting on the arm of a chair, waiting for her. The lights in the studio were dark, and though she could hear movement in the office on the other side of the room, the only other person she could see was that dancer boy Kravitz, curled up behind his sketchpad as usual. He was a nice looking guy, not her type but _definitely _her brother’s. Taako’s ears had gone pink.

“Ready to go?” she asked, shouldering her backpack.

“Mmmm.” Taako tore his eyes away from Kravitz and followed her out the door.

As soon as it was closed, Lup said, “So when are you going to ask him out?”

“What?”

“Kravitz. Hot dancer boy. When are you going to ask him out?”

“Who says I’m going to ask him out?”

“I do, because I’m your sister, and I’m not an idiot. I’m surprised you haven’t done it already. You’re never shy about making a move when you have a crush.”

“Maybe I don’t have a crush on him.”

“Oh, please. I just told you I’m not an idiot.”

Taako rolled his eyes dramatically at her, and she laughed. “What do you think of the new guy?” he asked.

“You’re changing the subject.”

“I sure am. What do you think of the new guy?”

“He’s dreadful,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

Taako laughed.

“But,” she said, “I don’t think he’ll stay dreadful. He got better just over the time I fought him. He’ll be okay if he keeps it up.”

“Maybe,” said Taako. “He’s got a better shot than old Merle, that’s for fucking sure.”

“No kidding. Poor Mavis.”

When Taako didn’t respond, Lup elbowed him. “What?”

“I mean, like, at least Mavis has someone watching out for her. Can you imagine Grandad—can you imagine _anyone_ actually choosing to spend extra time with us?”

“Auntie would have,” Lup said, quietly.

“Well, obviously I wasn’t talking about Auntie. But that ship has sailed, eh?”

“Hey!” Lup elbowed him again. “Quit making me sad.”

“That fucking hurts, Lulu,” Taako said, rubbing his ribs.

“Whatever. I’m _supposed _to be teasing you about your big ol crush on Goth Dancer Dude. Did you know your ears turn red every time you look at him?”

“They do? Goddamn.” Taako pulled his beanie further over his ears.

The bus pulled up to the stop, and the two of them swiped their cards and found seats.

“They do,” Lup confirmed when the bus started moving again. “You look like a dork. You should ask him out.”

Taako rolled his eyes and said, “What are we eating tonight?”

He was deflecting again, but if he did it _twice_ it meant he _really _didn’t want to talk about Kravitz. Which was weird in itself, but nothing else would come of prodding him about it. Maybe he’d talked to Magnus about it—she should text him. “Is Grandad going to be there?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Thank fuck. I think we have some risotto, we could do that.”

“Mm-hmm. And mushrooms. And cha’boy could do that cheese sauce you like.”

“Oh my god, I would kill everyone on this bus for some cheesy risotto.” That got her some dirty looks, so she lowered her voice. “I’ve got some heavy cream hidden in the back of the fridge. If Grandad’s really out, I could do a whipped cream, toss it on some fruit. Maybe mango?”

“Hell yeah!”

———

Magnus sat in the passenger seat of his mom’s car, nodding along to the music from her CD player—Camelot, original Broadway cast, not the movie. She was still in her scrubs, unless she was _already _in her scrubs. He couldn’t remember if this was a day shift or night shift week. She interrupted Richard Burton singing about what the simple folk do, saying, “I read about this really interesting scholarship today.”

Magnus had to stop himself from groaning. He loved his mother, but now that he was a high school junior, all she seemed to want to talk about was college. Magnus wasn’t even sure he wanted to _go_ to college. He _definitely_ didn’t want to think about it right now, while he was tired from school and fencing and so hungry he was losing his mind. But those were all his problems, not his mom’s, so he said, “Tell me about it.”

“It’s for the Goldcliff School of the Arts.”

This was not what Magnus had expected. “An art school?”

“Yup. They have this art competition for high school upperclassmen. The winners get automatic acceptance and some money—seems like it’s worth a shot.”

“You think my carvings are, like, art? Art enough to win money?”

“Mr. Bower seemed to think so. He sent me the link.”

Now Magnus did groan. “Mom, Bower just likes me because I’m less of a dick than the other guys in woodshop. It’s got nothing to do with my actual talent.”

“Just think about it, okay? It seems like it could be a good opportunity for you.”

“I’ll think about it,” Magnus echoed.

His mom must have heard insincerity in his voice, because she sighed and turned the music back up.

Fuck. He hated making his mom sad. She had so much to worry about, anyway, and she was either just coming off a long shift or about to go on one… “Hey Mom? Do you work tonight?”

“I do. I’ve got an hour and a half before I have to head out again.”

“Do you want to have dinner together?”

She smiled, and Magnus did too. “I’d love that. You have to shower first, though. The health department called and said your armpits count as a biohazard.”

———

Merle’s apartment was weird. In some ways, it was completely impersonal—no art on the walls, no carpets on the floor. All the furniture was utilitarian and cheap, like a college student’s first apartment, or at least, what Mavis imagined a student’s first apartment would be like. There were exactly three of each dish—three forks, three plates, three glasses, three mugs. Merle slept on a futon on a stained frame, and the room Mavis and Mookie shared was equipped with a plain metal bunkbed. It was so unlike her mother’s house, which was full of family heirlooms and fast food toys, treasures and trash. It felt temporary.

It did not feel like home.

Merle had plants, though. Hundreds of them, probably, covering every table and standing against every wall. The windows all had flower boxes, full of cheerful annuals, and the fire escape by the kitchen was covered in potted herbs and lettuces. It was probably not safe, but it was vibrant, and Mavis didn’t mind it.

Her mother did. Hekuba minded a lot of things about the way Merle lived. She _really_ minded that Mavis and Mookie shared a room—she kept saying they were too old for that. Mavis didn’t care about the age thing, or the gender thing, but she cared a lot about the amount of noise Mookie made where she was trying to sleep.

Right now, for instance, Mookie was making very loud explosion noises in their shared bedroom. Mavis sighed, dropped her backpack beside the uncovered kitchen table, moved some small pots of succulents so she had room for her homework, and pulled out her math textbook. Merle clapped her on the shoulder as he moved past her into her room.

“Hey, Fireball!” she heard him say, and heard Mookie’s delighted screech in response.

It hurt, a little bit, how easily the two of them got along. Mookie adored Merle, and Merle seemed to know how to talk to Mookie to keep it that way. But then, Mookie was too young to remember how bad it was before the divorce. Mavis remembered everything. Every curse, every slammed door, every shouted word. Every one of her mother’s sobs. And the silence after Merle left—she remembered that, too.

And then, two years later, Merle shows back up trying to be her dad. Well, he may have legal custody of her every other week, but he was _not_ her dad. He wasn’t even her stepdad anymore. Where did he get off joining her fencing class, trying to be all buddy-buddy with her friends? It was unimaginably unfair.

Mavis pulled her headphones out of her backpack and turned the volume on her phone all the way up, blocking out the laughter from the next room.

———

Angus’s grandfather’s apartment was a museum. Or, not a museum exactly, but a museum archive—too many precious things in not enough space. They’d been rich once, Angus knew, but that hadn’t been true for decades. When Angus was a baby and still living with his parents, there’d been a big financial collapse which had killed the last of the businesses and forced his grandpa to declare bankruptcy.

So now they lived in a tiny downtown apartment crammed with beautiful objects—silverware sets and burnished lamps and Chinese vases big enough to hide in. Angus often wondered why they didn’t sell the stuff, get more money and more room, which they never had enough of, but when he’d asked his grandpa, the old man had simply laughed and shaken his head.

If the apartment was an archive, Angus’s room was a library. He had two bursting bookshelves, plus more books lining his walls, stacked on his desk, lost and gathering dust under his bed. He had a ton of nonfiction, mostly guidebooks and psychology, and some general fiction, but his mystery collection was his pride and joy. He had every Caleb Cleveland book—of course, who didn’t?—everything Agatha Christie ever wrote, a two-volume Sherlock Holmes, Anne Perry, and Gillian Flynn and Stieg Larsson (even if they were more thrillers than mysteries proper). He had the Rita Mae Brown cat mysteries and Lorna Barrett’s cozy bookstore murders. The bottom two shelves of the bookcase by his bed held the Boxcar Children, Nancy Drew, and Encyclopedia Brown books he’d long since outgrown but still loved.

Angus had read every book in the room.

People often told Angus he was smart, and though he made too many stupid mistakes to really believe that, he did learn quickly. He was two grades ahead in math. He could read and write (but not speak) French, Spanish, and Hebrew, and he was working on Mandarin Chinese and Arabic. He could identify most of the local trees by the shape of their leaves. He’d learned the Friday night service faster than any other kid in his Hebrew School. He knew when people were lying to him. He was hungry for knowledge, and for many years, he’d gorged himself on books and been satisfied.

But Angus wasn’t a little kid anymore. He was almost a teenager, now, and books weren’t enough. He wanted to _do _something, to have something _real_ happen to him.

Angus dropped his backpack on the floor of his room and cast himself onto his bed. The ceiling was high and dark above him.

He was twelve, and lonely, and bored, and it didn’t seem like any of that was ever going to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Follow me @the-z-part on tumblr


	3. Chapter 3

August ended and September began without becoming an ounce less humid. Barry was three weeks into college, and starting to get his feet under him. It would be lying to say that he had friends here in Farun, but he had potential friends, which was something. Probably.

He was three weeks into fencing, too. Slowly, Barry was gaining his old skills back. He’d lost the muscle memory (and the muscle itself), but he still remembered _how_ to fence, and as he practiced, his body started to catch up with his brain. He hadn’t gotten his parries backwards since that first day, and though he was still losing to everyone but Merle, he was less and less embarrassed by how badly he was losing.

The only one who made any effort to talk to Barry was Magnus. He seemed to notice that Barry was feeling, well, not great about this whole social situation. At first, he’d thought Magnus was pretending to be friendly, but the boy really was just that bubbly. There was more to it than that, though. When Lucretia started moving like she hurt, Magnus would make sure to partner with her and move slower than usual, never mentioning what he was doing. When Angus started to panic-spiral after making a mistake, Magnus would hoist him on his shoulder and swing him around until he forgot the problem. Magnus could draw Taako out when he got sulky, diffuse Lup when she was about to snap, make Mavis and Merle laugh when they were on the edge of another fight. He watched them all as closely as Barry did. The only difference was, Magnus was doing something about it, and Barry was just watching.

More than anyone else, Barry watched the twins. It was hard not to. They always moved like they were preforming, all dramatic gestures and graceful poses and loud laughter. They cursed fluently, He’d never met two people so sure of themselves, so comfortable in their own skin. At first, he’d thought they were intensely alike, a single two-headed entity, but the more he watched, the more different he realized they were. Taako’s default stance was a kind of deliberate aloofness, where Lup was more earnest. Taako was faster to make jokes, and his jokes were more likely to veer into unkindness, but he was also faster to take things back, whereas Lup was a little gentler to start off with, but also prouder, unwilling to back down when someone disagreed with her. Both of them projected light into every room they were in, but the quality of it was different—Taako glittered; Lup _glowed_.

Back home, his fencing classmates had been just that—classmates—but the folks here were friends. Which was weird. Even Lucretia, who didn’t talk that much, was folded effortlessly into the joking before class and between bouts. And even Mavis and Merle, who didn’t seem to know how to _be_ around each other one-on-one, amplified each other’s wild stories during stretches. Being in a room with all of them was a joke-a-minute laugh riot, and it was the most intensely alienating thing Barry had ever experienced.

Because they were a circle, and Barry was on the outside.

———-

Lup was not especially good at making friends. Making people like her, sure, that was easy, but serious friendship required vulnerability and willingness to learn and compromise and general effort, and 99.9% of people weren’t worth it. Before Magnus had elbowed his way into her life, Taako had been pretty much her only friend, and she’d been fine with that. Now, she was constantly amazed by how many friends she had. Nearly all of them were from hanging out with Magnus, and by the transitive property, the other people who hung out with Magnus.

But on her own, making friends was still a trial. Especially when the individual in question didn’t seem interested in her at all.

Barry Bluejeans kept to himself. He didn’t speak unless someone asked him a question, he didn’t smile at people, didn’t laugh at their jokes. He was a shitty fencer, a profoundly awkward person to try to talk to, and she had never once heard him say something funny. He was the definition of not worth it.

So why did she want to be his friend?

Maybe it was precisely because he didn’t seem to care about her. People mostly loved or hated Lup, depending on their tolerance for flash and nonsense, but she and Taako had deliberately made themselves hard to ignore, and it rankled a little that this guy was disregarding all that. That couldn’t be all of it, though, right? Lup didn’t like the idea that she was so vain she’d go running after a near-stranger’s approval.

Maybe it was just the mystery of it. They knew exactly as much about Barry now as they’d learned on that first day. He was at college—presumably at Faerun University, though who really knew?—he used to fence but had quit, and that was it. That was certainly why Angus kept eyeing Barry, but interpersonal curiosity wasn’t exactly Lup’s _thing_.

Anyway, it didn’t matter why, because _he _didn’t want to be friends with _her._ If Barry wanted to be standoffish and silent, that was his prerogative. She wasn’t going to try and win him over or some bullshit like that. It wasn’t her problem.

That was the decision she’d come to by the end of Barry’s third class. She and Magnus were on deck, watching Angus slowly and methodically kick Barry’s ass out on the strip. When Barry missed a particularly obvious parry, Magnus winced and said, “Poor guy.”

Lup smirked. “Yep. That one was dumb.”

“No—I mean, yeah, it was—but like, it’s gotta suck to keep losing like that.”

“I guess. We all fenced like dumbasses when we started out, though. It’s just how this shit goes.”

“Yeah, but we had fun anyway, cause it was you and me and Taako fucking around. Barry, like, he’s too shy to make friends _and_ he’s losing all the time? I’d quit.”

Lup glanced up at Magnus. “You think he’s shy?”

“Yeah, like, obviously. Why else wouldn’t he talk to us?”

“Cause he doesn’t like us?”

Magnus considered that. “I doubt it. He’s been chill whenever I’ve talked to him.”

Lup looked out onto the strip, where a very out of breath Barry had taken of his mask and was saluting Angus. “Huh.”

————

Barry showed up early for his fourth class. Only Magnus and Angus were in the waiting room, Angus reading a tattered paperback and Magnus tucked behind a laptop. As Barry was tying his shoes, the twins came in, bursting through the door like they expected applause. Barry had never gotten to fencing before them before, and was struck by how different they looked in their street clothes. Their clothing wasn’t cool in the traditional sense, but they wore it like _they_ thought it was cool, and so it was. Lup was in what looked like it used to be a vintage gingham dress that had been altered into a jumpsuit over bright green tights, with cherry-coved novelty socks that reached almost to her knees. Taako wore a purple short-sleeved dress shirt that someone had sown lace along the bottom edges of, torn jeans over fishnets, and leather wristbands. It wasn’t that Barry hadn’t expected them to dress loudly, exactly—they were plenty loud in class—but they were such a closed circle, he was surprised they wanted other people to notice them.

Taako draped himself over the back of of Magnus’s armchair like a cat. “What’re you looking at?”

If Magnus was surprised or put off by this invasion of his personal space, he didn’t show it. “It’s this scholarship I’m thinking of applying for.”

“Do they let juniors apply for scholarships?”

“This one does. It’s an art thing.”

Lup said, “You’re good at art.” She dropped her backpack to the ground with a worrying clang and began rooting around in it.

“I don’t know if I’m scholarship-good, but my mom thinks I should go for it, so.”

Barry hadn’t known Magnus did art. So much for his paying attention.

Lup pulled her knickers and t-shirt from her backpack and headed for the changing rooms. On the way, she exchanged a fist bump with a still-reading Angus, and tapped Barry casually on the shoulder.

Barry jumped.

Lup laughed. “Didn’t mean to startle you there, man.”

“It’s fine,” Barry said, trying to make it sound like he wasn’t mid-heart attack.

The others arrived, and Lup, Taako, and Magnus’s knot of conversation grew to accept them. Angus put down his book when Mavis got there, and Merle joked with them, despite the dirty looks his daughter sent him. Even Lucretia joined in the fun, in her quiet way. Barry stayed outside their circle until Davenport called for warm-ups.

The old air conditioner seemed to be putting more energy into making noise than cooling the air, and in moments, Barry was soaked with sweat. He probably smelled bad, too. Still, he kept up during the warm ups and didn’t make a total fool of himself during the exercises. He judged for a very tangled bout between Lup and Magnus and only had to abstain once. Then, finally, it was time for him to fence himself.

He was facing Taako, so he knew better than to think he could win, but maybe this time he’d get three or four points on him before losing. They saluted each other and pulled on their masks. Barry bounced a little on the balls of his feet, to keep his energy up. Taako wasn’t quite as fast as his sister, but he was way faster than Barry, so he’d need everything he could get.

Davenport counted them down and called, “_Fence!_” and Taako exploded forward.

Barry retreated as fast as he could, parrying and trying to make enough space to reposte. Before he could, though, Taako stopped short and lunged again, and this time Barry just did not parry at all. He should have; he should have seen the hit coming. But he hadn’t. God, he was an idiot.

Taako got the point, of course, and they reset to the center of the strip. _Pay attention, dumbass_, Barry told himself. This time, when Davenport told them to fence, he took the initiative, advancing on Taako. Once he thought he was in range, he lunged at Taako’s four, planning to disengage and catch him in his six, but he wasn’t quite quick enough, and Taako parried and reposted before Barry could reverse his momentum.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid. Come on, Barry, you’re making a fool of yourself._

The knot of embarrassment and frustration in his chest weighed him down like an anchor, making it hard to move, hard to think. What’s the point in trying to parry when you’re too stupid to repost right? What’s the point in trying to strategize when you’re too out-of-shape to pull anything off? Barry’s mistakes piled up on him until he was so angry with himself he could hardly breathe. His hand shook on his sword. He felt nauseous. He wanted this to _end_.

And, eventually, it did. Taako beat him 5-0, and when he pulled his mask off, he didn’t even look sweaty. Why was Barry even here?

“Excuse me,” he said to Davenport, and headed outside. He needed air. It was dusk, and slightly cooler out now, and though the dance studio they fenced at was at the edge of downtown, it was quiet. Barry checked to make sure there really was no one watching before he crumpled onto a bench and let himself cry.

Who was he kidding? He’d never be like the rest of them. He’d never have that competence, that skill, that speed. He’d never have that easy camaraderie. He was an ugly, fat, stupid lump and he—

Barry’s head snapped up when he heard the door open. Light spilled from the studio onto the dim street, and in that light—Lup. She glanced around, and then smiled when she saw him. Barry desperately tried to wipe the tears from his face. He must look pathetic, sitting out here _crying_ because he lost a _game_. But Lup wasn’t laughing at him, or even pitying him. She smiled broader, moving to sit beside him on the bench. “I was wondering where you’d gotten to.”

“Here I am.” Barry tried and failed to hide the bitterness in his voice.

“You want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Valid. Fair and valid.” Lup leaned back, tilting her face up to the sky. “The stars are really something tonight, huh?”

Barry glanced up. It was mostly cloudy, but the stars were shining though in places. “I guess so.”

“There’s a lot going on up there, but you can still see how beautiful they are through the clouds.”

“Hmm.”

“I sprained my ankle last year. It wasn’t that big a deal—I tripped down some stairs like a grade-A dumbass—but it meant I wasn’t fencing for like a month. When I came back, everything that was supposed to be easy was hard. I was so mad at myself for just like, not being fast, not being smart—but I got it back eventually. You will too.”

“I guess.”

“And listen, man. For what it’s worth, I can tell how much better you’ve gotten just in the last few weeks.” She punched him lightly on the shoulder. “You’re going to be kicking everyone’s ass in no time. Not mine, of course, but like, Taako and Magnus and everybody.”

God, why was she being so nice to him? It made him want to start crying all over. Which he wasn’t going to do. He wiped his eyes with the heel of his palm and said, “Thanks, Lup. That’s good of you to say.”

“I’m not just saying it, dude. You’re gonna be good as hell, and we all know that.”

Barry stared down at his knees, his face growing pink. “Thank you,” he said again.

“Of course. You mind if I chill out here with you until you’re ready to go in? We don’t have to talk.”

“Yeah, that’d be good.” He looked up, finally, and saw that she was watching him, studying him, but not unkindly. Their eyes met, and for a moment, Barry thought his heart would stop entirely. Then she jostled her shoulder into his, breaking the moment and making him laugh. That was _her_ in that moment, sharp and kind, funny and vulnerable, and he loved her. It was as simple as that.

————

As Lup followed Barry back into the studio, she considered what to do about him. Not that she _had_ to do anything, of course. Barry wasn’t her problem. He was in college; he could take care of himself.

Which was such an obviously false thought it was basically a joke. The guy was falling apart, and she’d been the only one to notice it.

She could hand him off to Magnus. He hadn’t seen how upset Barry was when he ran out of the building, but he’d also been about to fence. He’d make sure Barry was okay.

But that felt irresponsible somehow, and also unkind. Barry had been _crying_, for fuck’s sake, and he’d trusted her to sit with him in a _very_ shitty and vulnerable moment. She couldn’t just toss him off to Magnus like a stretched-out sweater. He wasn’t her problem, but maybe he could be her friend.

Which was all well and good, but she still didn’t know what to _do _about Barry.

She considered this all through the rest of fencing, through returning her gear and changing her shoes, until good ol Magnus brought her back to the present.

“Are you guys still on for Amtguard this weekend?” He asked.

“Hell yeah,” said Lup. Mavis and Angus both nodded, Angus bouncing on his toes a bit.

Taako asked, “Is Carey back yet?”

“Yup,” said Magnus, beaming. “She just got into town yesterday.”

Lup said, “I haven’t seen her in for-fucking-ever. Is she off probation?”

“Yeah, I think it ended at the end of the year. If she gets grounded to campus again, I’m gonna go over there and kill her.”

Barry glanced up at them from his spot on the floor, where he was tying his street shoes. “What’s Amtguard?”

All of them hesitated. Magnus was the first to figure out how to explain. “It’s like—you know LARPing?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s like LARPing without the role playing. We go out into the field by my house and hit each other with foam swords.”

Lup said, “I wish you wouldn’t compare it to LARPing. It’s so much cooler than that.”

“Is it, though?” asked Mavis. “Like, objectively, it’s a pretty dorky thing to do. Fun though!”

“Technically,” Angus said, “Amtguard _is _LARPing. Other people play it with characters and a plot and everything. _We_ just ignore all that.”

“So we can hit each other a bunch,” Magnus said.

“Right!”

Amtguard was dorkier than Lup was comfortable admitting, but it was also basically the most fun she ever had. It was how she’d bonded with Mavis and Angus and Carey—fencing had made them friendly, but Amtguard made them _friends. _And Barry wasn’t making friends.

“Hey Barry?” she said, “You want to come play with us on Saturday?”

“Uh, sure, if that’s okay with everyone else?”

“Of course!” said Magnus. “I’ll give you my address.”


	4. Chapter 4

_Carey: I’m gonna do it_

Magnus squinted at the text from Carey. It was a Thursday afternoon, and he was trying to get through his math homework so he could sketch out this sculpture concept a bit before bed. He had no idea what Carey was talking about.

_????, _he replied

_Carey: I’m asking Killian out and theRE’S NOTHING U CAN DO TO STOP ME_

_Magnus: Hell yeah!_

_Carey: IM DOING IT_

_Magnus: DO IT_

_Carey: Oh god I can’t do it_

_Magnus: Wait, why not?_

_Carey: She’s so cool and beautiful and I’m just a scrawny little lizard of a person and there’s no way she’d ever say yes and then everything it going to be WEIRD and we can’t be a team anymore and Magnus we’re NEIGHBORS even if I quit fencing I have to see her every day and I can’t get myself kicked out of another school or my mom will literally actually kill me so I can’t escape she’s going to know I like her and she’s going to laugh at me and AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA_

Magnus had to read the text twice before he caught all the nuances in it. Carey had worked herself up into a proper panic, and he was never sure exactly how to defuse that, but sometimes logic helped. It at least made him feel like he was helping. God, he wished he could drive. He could just go over to her school and talk to her face to face, maybe hug her. Instead, he began to type out his reply.

_Magnus: K, let’s break this shit down._ _1, do you think Killian would actually laugh at you? Or make things awkward? She’s like the chillest person ever_

_Carey: No I would make things awkward Im so awkward_

_Magnus: Let me finish, I got a numbered list here_

_Carey: ://///_

_Magnus: 2, you’re more like a DRAGON than a lizard, you’re a badass, and Killian knows that. Why would anyone not like you, esp someone who knows you as well as she does? _

_Magnus: 3, fuck your mom, but also don’t get kicked out on purpose ok? I’d miss you if I couldn’t beat you up with foam swords every weekend _

_In conclusion, uh, I get if you don’t want to ask her out today, but don’t be mean to yourself about it._

_Carey: can I say shit now?_

_Magnus: yeah_

_Carey: ok I’m not going to get kicked out_

_Carey: probably_

_Carey: not on purpose_

_Magnus: good_

_Carey: I’d miss you too. I missed amtguard so much over the summer_

_Carey: WAIT THAT’S GENIUS_

_Magnus: ????????_

_Carey: I’M GOING TO ASK HER TO COME TO AMTGUARD_

_Carey: SHE LOVES SWORDS _

_Carey:ITS LOW PRESSURE_

_C: and then maybe if we have fun I can bring up that maybe it’s a date??????_

_Magnus: That’s a good idea actually_

_Carey: the only kind I have ;)_

_Carey: ok gonna go ask brbbbbbbb_

Magnus grinned at his phone and set it aside, making himself focus on his math. Usually he liked matrix multiplication—it was straightforward and methodical—but it took so long, and tonight he barely had the patience for it. Between Carey and the scholarship competition, it felt like everything else was more important than schoolwork.

He managed to keep his brain on his homework for a good ten minutes until his phone chimed again.

_Carey: ok I’m back_

_Magus: !!! How’d it go????_

_Carey: mixed results :/_

_Magus: tell me more_

_Carey: ok so she’s coming to amtgaurd, which, GREAT, but she also immediately suggested that Noelle come too and like that’s a great idea!!! She’d love it!!! But also now it can’t be a date bc I love Noelle but platonically yaknow? So that’s less great_

_Magus: oof. That sucks_

_Magus: guess you’ll have to ask her out directly like a regular person_

_Carey: or I could not do that_

_Carey: I could just never say anything to anyone again until I die_

_Magus: maybe don’t do that either_

_Magus: <3 <3_

_Carey: <3 <3 <3_

———

Barry pulled up to Magnus’s house and parked his battered white car out front. The address Magnus had given him was for a two-story house on a quiet residential street. As promised, there was a field next to it, up a short hill from the street. It was a simmering Saturday afternoon, the only sounds the singing of a few late cicadas and the faint noise of traffic a few streets over.

And then the silence was shattered. Magnus burst through the house’s front door, carrying a humongous fake sword that appeared to be wrapped in duct tape. “Barold! You made it!”

Barry lifted a hand, slightly reeling from the nickname.

Taako and Lup appeared in the doorway behind Magnus, arms full of smaller swords. Taako hoisted one into the air. “Hail and well met, my dude!”

“Uh, hi.”

The three of them clattered down the front stairs to the street, then began to climb the hill to the field. At first, Barry just watched them go, unsure what to do, but then Lup called “Come on!” over her shoulder, and Barry hurried to catch up with her.

“Do you, uh, need any help with those?” he asked, indicating the swords that were threatening to spill out of her arms.

“Nah, I got it.”

Barry didn’t know what else to stay, so he just followed her onto the grass, where she and Taako dumped their loads onto the ground. They weren’t only swords, Barry saw now, but a whole variety of weapons—daggers, a couple maces, an axe, a pair of nunchucks on a string, something that looked like a double-ended lightsaber. All of them looked oddly tube-like. Barry picked one up—it was surprisingly light. “What are these made of?” he asked.

Magnus said, “The swords are all pool noodles on pvc pipe, wrapped in duct tape. Everything else is a variation on that.” He set down the giant sword he was carrying, and now Barry could see that it was pretty clearly three noodles attached side-to-side. Someone had written the word “Berserker” on it in hot pink washi tape.

“They’re really impressive.”

“Thanks, man!” Magnus grinned at the compliment. “They’re really fun to make. Fisher, come!”

Barry blinked, then realized the words weren’t meant for him, and turned. A huge black dog was bounding out of Magnus’s yard and toward the four of them. It hit Magnus at top speed, knocking both of them onto the grass. Barry winced, but Magnus was laughing, wrasseling with the dog.

Lup sidled up to Barry. “That’s Fisher,” she said.

“I gathered.”

“She’s a sweetie, but she’s kind of a lot.’

Barry had figured this out, too, but repeating himself would be rude, so he just stayed quiet.

Lup gave him an odd, sidelong look. “So,” she said. “Amtguard. I assume you don’t know the rules?”

Barry shook his head.

“Right. Basically, your goal is to fuck up everyone who isn’t on your team—or everyone, period, if we’re playing everyone-for-themselves. If someone hits you in the torso, that’s an insta-kill. You get hit in the arm or leg, and you can’t use it anymore. Headshots and groin shots don’t count, and also are a shitty thing to do, so try not to do them, capisce?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Oh, and one more thing. You’re going to suck ass.”

Barry immediately went red. “Ex-excuse me?”

“Your brain is used to fencing—one opponent, straight line, et cetera. This is super different, and you’re going to be fucking terrible. Don’t worry about it, though. We’re chill here. And I heard there’s going to be some other new people today, so you might not even be the worst!”

Barry wilted a little. He was sick of being bad at things. Bad at fencing, bad at talking, and now bad at Amtguard, before he’d even had a chance to play. He longed for the weekend to be over, so he could go back to school where at least he knew what the fuck he was doing.

Lup jostled him with her shoulder. “Buck up, broski. You’ll have fun, I promise.”

Barry laughed—just a small, awkward laugh, but a laugh all the same. Lup smiled even bigger, and it seemed like she was about to say something else, but then her eyes snapped back to the street.

“Oh shit, here come the kids!”

Sure enough, a truck had pulled up to the lot, and Angus and Mavis were spilling out of it. It looked like they’d both tried to leave through the same door at the same time. Merle leaned out of the driver’s side window and called, “Have fun, kiddos!”

“Thank you, sir!” Angus called back, but Mavis studiously ignored him, going to fist bump Magnus instead

Just as Merle was pulling away, a dark blue sports car parked in front of Magnus’s house. It was small and expensive-looking, all clean lines and tinted windows, its beauty only marred by a gnarly dent in the rear bumper. Out from the driver’s side popped a skinny white girl with short black hair and a flannel tied around her waist. “I’m a free woman, fuckos!” she shouted, running up the side of the hill. Magnus opened his arms, and she ran into them.

Two other girls emerged from the car rather more slowly. One was nearly as tall and buff as Magnus, with brown skin and thick black hair that she had up in a pony tail. The other was shorter, with light skin, curly hair, and freckles. There was something unusual about the way she walked—it took Barry a moment to notice that her left leg was a prosthetic.

When they were al gathered on the field, Magnus said, “Everyone, meet Carey, Killian, and Noelle, the kickass St. Ioun’s fencing team. Ladies, this is Angus, Mavis, and Barry. They fence with us. And, uh, you already know Taako and Lup.”

Carey, the skinny one, reached out to bump fists with Lup. Killian and Noelle hung back, a little awkward. There was a moment where no one spoke, and Barry contemplated self-immolation, and then Taako said, “Hey guys? Are we gonna fucking play or what?”

Magnus cheered and clapped him on the back, and then made for the pile of weapons. The others followed. Lup grabbed Barry’s wrist. “Come on,” she said, pulling him with her, “or you’ll get stuck with shitty daggers or something!”

Barry wound up with two short swords. He had no idea how to fight with his left hand, but everyone else was either dual-wielding or using an impractically large weapon, and all the big ones were gone by the time he got there. Mavis had won the scramble for the Berserker. Angus had the only shield, a big rectangle of cardboard covered in duct tape, and had a sword in his hand and an extra dagger stuck in his back pocket. Carey only had two daggers, which struck Barry as a risky move. Almost everyone else was armed like him, with one or two swords.

“Teams?” Lup suggested, and the others nodded like it meant something. At least Noelle and Killian also looked like they weren’t sure what was supposed to be happening.

“Magnus and I are going to kick your ass, Lulu” said Taako with a grin.

“We’ll see about that. Barold, Mavis, be on my team?”

“No, I wanted Mavis!” Magnus said.

Mavis said, “Sorry, dude, she asked first.”

Magnus turned to Carey. “Are you going to abandon me too?”

“Course not, my dude!”

Angus piped up, “Can I be on your team, sirs?”

“Sure thing, little man,” said Taako.

Lup said, “Noelle, Killian, help me smash them?”

“Hell yeah!” Killian said.

“I’d be honored,” said Noelle. Barry was struck by the strength of her southern accent, and by how he wasn’t sure if she was being sarcastic or not.

The two teams made their way to opposite sides of the field. Magnus, Taako, Carey, and Angus huddled up, but Lup just stood with her sword at the ready.

“Um,” said Barry, “shouldn’t we be strategizing like that?”

Lup laughed. “Nah, dude, their plan is going to fall apart in exactly ten second. Our plan is—” she raised her voice so the others could hear her too, “—watch each other’s backs and try not to get your asses killed. HEY CHUCKLEFUCKS!” (This was directed at the other team). “LET’S FUCKING FIGHT!”

“FINE!” Taako bellowed back.

“Hey, Mavis, will you count us down?” Lup asked at a more reasonable volume.

Mavis nodded. “Three!” She called. “Two! One! Lay on!”

Barry had expected them all to run at each other, but instead, the groups approached each other slowly. Angus tried to sneak around the side, but Killian noticed him and swung at him, coming up short but sending him scrambling back to his team.

“Okay,” said Lup, “more like thirty seconds.”

And then they were in fighting range, and Lup was gone, dueling with her brother.

Carey made for Barry, and he stumbled up, bringing up his sword to block her. He tried to to hit her, but she was inside his guard—those damn daggers—and he couldn’t get the space. He would have died right there if Noelle hadn’t taken Carey’s arm off from behind.

Carey cursed, dropping one of her daggers and tucking her arm behind her back. “I thought you were my friend, Noelle!”

“Sorry, hun!” Noelle was already running away to help Mavis fight Magnus, but the exchange had given Barry time to back up, and now he swung at Carey. She ducked under his swing, dropping into a roll and popping up right in front of him before he could think to move—all with one arm behind her back. He barely managed to deflect her blow into his arm instead of his chest.

From halfway across the field, Taako shouted, “Oh shit, sweet flip!”

Carey flashed him a smile, and Barry swiped at her again. She noticed his blow in time to knock it into her leg, cursed, and then stabbed him right in the gut. She wobbled away, muttering about newbies taking all her limbs.

Barry sat down on the ground where he’d died. He wasn’t the first fatality—Killian had underestimated Angus, and was sprawled out on the ground going through some pretty dramatic death throes—but Lup was right, he hadn’t made an especially good showing. Still, watching the battle raging on around him, hearing everyone’s laughing and shouting and carrying on, and just the knowledge of how deeply silly this whole thing was, made it hard for him to feel down on himself. Especially when Lup crashed down beside him, finally bested by Taako and Angus working together. Mavis and Noelle were still alive, and Carey and Magnus were dead, so their odds were pretty even.

“Avenge me!” Lup called, shaking her fist in the air.

“You’re _dead_” said Taako. “You can’t talk!”

“We’re undead over here, baby!” Lup dabbed, and Taako stuck his tongue out at her—and was promptly killed by Mavis.

Lup burst out laughing. Barry did too. It was hard, he was learning, to not laugh when Lup was laughing.

Angus killed Noelle, and then Mavis killed Angus, winning their team the battle. They cheered for her, and she high-fived all of them. Barry was half-surprised when she high-fives him, too, but then he had been part of the team, even if he wasn’t that useful.

Lup elbowed him again. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, and it wasn’t even a lie.

——

The second battle was everyone-for-themselves. Noelle had Magnus backed up to the fence, with nowhere to run and no good ideas. He still had all his limb, but that wouldn’t last if he didn’t get away. Noelle may be new, but she knew what the fuck she was doing with a sword. She swung at him, but he blocked it, barely. He fainted at her head, then swung around at the last minute and got her in the knee. He was about to do some dumb one-liner when he realized what he’d done—he’d hit her right in the prosthetic leg.

Magnus froze. He tried to stammer out an apology, but he felt like his brain was short-circuiting. He couldn’t even make a sound.

Noelle looked down at her leg, and for a moment Magnus was terrified she’d say he’d broken it, but she just deadpanned, “Gosh am I careless. I can’t believe I lost the dang thing twice.” Then she looked up at him and grinned, and he grinned back, and she stabbed him in the stomach and hopped away on her remaining leg.

———

The third fight, another team battle, found Lup, an arm and a leg down, wobbling her way toward a similarly-wounded Killian. Killian let out a tremendous shout and launched herself at Lup, who screamed in response and fell forward, sword extended. It was mutually assured destruction—Killian rammed Lup in the stomach just as Lup sliced her across the side, and both of them collapsed onto the grass.

Everyone else was still alive (though Magnus was on his knees, swinging wildly at anyone he thought was close enough), so Lup said, “Looks like we’ll be here for a while.”

“Yep. Fuck. I can’t believe that Barry guy cut my arm off.”

Lup threw back her head, laughing. “Barold learns fast!”

“Is his name actually Barold?” Killian asked.

“No, it’s Barry, but Barold is better, don’t you think?’

“Oh, I mean, obviously. But Barry could be short for, like, Bartholomew or something.”

Lup snorted so hard she physically doubled over. “Holy shit. God, I hope his name is Bartholomew, that would be fucking gold.” She straightened up, planting a hand on Killian’s arm to steady herself, and bellowed across the field, “BAROLD!”

Barry was trying to fend off Noelle and Angus with one hand behind his back, but he still turned when Lup called. “Yeah?”

“IS YOUR NAME SHORT FOR SOMETHING?”

“Uh, yeah!”

“WHAT?”

“Sildar. Goddamn!” Noelle swiped him right across the stomach, and he sat down in the grass.

“Huh,” said Lup.

“Huh,” said Killian.

“I guess we’ll unpack that one later.”

——

The afternoon wore on. Barry spent enough time dead on the ground that he wasn’t exhausted when they finally broke for the evening, but he was decently sore. Merle came to pick up Mavis and Angus, and as they were leaving, Killian said, “We’ve got to head out, too. We’re only signed out until six. See you tomorrow, though!” She shot finger guns at them.

“Tomorrow?” said Magnus.

“Yeah, dumbass,” Taako said. “Tomorrow’s the first tournament. Your mom is driving us.”

“Oh shit,” said Magnus. He covered his face with his hands and said again, “Oh shiiit. I completely forgot. My mom’s working all day tomorrow.”

“Well, fuck,” said Lup. “Can you borrow her car? You got your license over the summer, right?”

“I, uh, may have failed the test.”

“Magnus!”

“A couple times.”

Lup raked her fingers through her hair. “I guess we _could_ ask to borrow our grandfather’s car, but that’s pretty much definitely not happening.”

“Would your mom care if I drove her car?” Taako asked.

Magnus grimaced. “Probably.”

Lup turned to Carey. “Could we ride with you guys?”

“I wish. It’s a school activity, so we have to take a big fucking bus for just the three of us.”

Magnus looked like he was about to cry. “Shit, guys, I’m so sorry.”

“I could drive you guys.”

Every head turned to look at Barry, who was twisting his hands together.

“Are you serious?” said Lup.

“Yeah. I don’t have any plans tomorrow. How far away is the tournament?”

Taako and Magnus glanced at each other. “It’s in Felicity,” Taako said, “so like an hour and a half?”

“Oh yeah, that’s no problem. I mean, if you guys want me to.”

Lup grinned at him, fire-bright and lovely. “You just saved our lives, Barold.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've played actual amtguard and not this nonsense I did as a teen, let me know in the comments what that's like! I've always wanted to know. And as always, thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

On their way up to Felicity, Lup, Taako, and Magnus explained to Barry that their fencing league wasn’t much—just some little tournaments held in high school gyms or community rec centers. Barry had done a few tournaments back in Neverwinter, and those hadn’t exactly been the big leagues, but this was smaller than anything he’d ever seen. He followed the others into Felicity High’s secondary gym and found it dotted with fewer than twenty teenagers, plus a handful of parents, coaches, and volunteer refs. Still, it had all the trappings of a fencing tournament—electrical tape on the floor marking out strips, buzzers and lights and wires set up to sense fencers’ scores. One of the buzzers was going off, loudly, even though no one was attached to it. A cluster of refs were gathered around it, trying to make it stop and failing, which felt intimately familiar to Barry.

The gym also _smelled_ familiar. Barry never thought he’d be nostalgic for high school gym class, but that mixture of wood polish and rubber and sweat sent him right back: losing at dodgeball on purpose so he could talk to his friends, making up bullshit four-square rules, and yeah, failing at volleyball. It was a mixed bag, but whatever. At least today he wouldn’t have to exercise.

Lup, Taako, and Magnus dumped their bags on the ground. They were all already in their fencing knickers and white t-shirts with the word “Starblasters” hand-painted across the front. They sat on the bleachers to change their shoes, and Barry sat with them, surveying the room. It was a sea of white. Some of the kids had logos on their shirts, but the shirts themselves were regulation-white, along with the knickers and sneakers. The only colorful garments in the room were the socks. Fencers wear knee-length socks, and in fancier leagues those were white as well, but here they were every color, every pattern. Barry saw a boy in purple socks with little spiders on them, a girl in tie-dye socks, and an androgynous kid with red birds on their socks. His own friends were no exception. Taako had dark blue socks with glittering silver stars, Magnus’s were highlighter-green, and Lup’s were patterned with flames. She tucked them under the elastic knees of her knickers and sighed. “Either of you two want to be team captain today?”

Magnus and Taako blinked at her.

“That’s what I thought. Come on, Barold.” She stood and started off across the gym.

Barry scrambled to catch up with her. “Where are we going?”

“We’re getting the match list from the judges’ table, over there. I’m the captain by default, so I have to sign us in and get everything set up.”

“Why is that your responsibility?”

Lup shrugged. “Magnus has a million people to say hi to, and Taako’s going to go hole up with Ren—that girl there, with the silver hair—and talk about canapés or some shit until they have to go kill each other. I don’t really have any friends here, so it’s no big deal for me to deal with the details.”

Barry stared at her, stunned. It had never occurred to him that Lup might not have friends, or at least admirers, anywhere she was. Wouldn’t they all want to be her friend? But as they passed the other fencers, all of them ignored Barry and Lup in favor of messing with their equipment or waving to other folks across the room. Which should probably be a crime. How could you have someone as magic as Lup in your midst and ignore her?

Barry sped up a little so he was beside Lup. “Can I help?” he asked. “Take some of the load off?”

Lup looked at him, head tilted. “Yeah,” she said. “Actually, that’d be pretty chill.”

—

Magnus scanned the gym, looking for Carey. He was supposed to meet up with her so she could debrief him on what had happened between her and Killian after Amtguard last night (assuming anything had happened, which Magnus privately doubted). She didn’t seem to be here, though. He saw Rowan and Antonia with some little freshman he’d never met, the three kids on the Refuge team (Ren was waving to Taako), those absolute dickweeds on the Wonderboro team--

And then he saw the girl.

Magnus’s mom loved old musicals. They weren’t exactly his thing—he preferred his music noisier and a little more recent—but he didn’t hate them or anything. And just from living with his mom for sixteen-and-a-half years he had a bunch of them basically memorized. One of her favorites was South Pacific, a tragic story about World War Two soldiers and racism. The big centerpiece of the show was a song called “Some Enchanted Evening.” Even now, with his lower voice, he could barely hit its lowest notes.

When his eyes met the girl’s, he could feel the violins swelling in his heart. _Some enchanted evening, you may see a stranger across a crowded room._ She was tall and broad, the kind of curvy that old people called voluptuous, with light brown skin and dark brown hair and depthless brown eyes. She was smiling at something one of her friends had said, and it was a wonderful thing to see, warm and fierce all at once. That smile slipped a bit as she regarded him. He should have felt weird about staring at her, but it was hard to feel anything but amazement looking at her. And anyway, she was staring right back at him. The expression on her face was something like surprise. He lifted a hand, did a little wave—goddamn that was dorky, why did he do that?—and she waved back.

Then, suddenly, Taako was at his elbow. “Pick your jaw up off the floor, dingus.”

Magnus touched his face. His mouth was, indeed, open. He closed it and turned to Taako. “Who is she?”

“Other than your type? No idea. They must be a new team or something.”

Finally, Magnus properly noticed the other two girls standing with her. One was tall and slender, maybe Asian, with long black hair. She was perhaps the only person he had ever seen wear eyeliner to a fencing tournament. The other was a short white girl with curly hair and athletic build. They all looked a little uncertain, but not quite anxious.

“I’m going to go say hi.”

Taako rolled his eyes. “Magnus rushes in.”

“I’m just being friendly!”

“Whatever, Romeo. Don’t scare her too bad.”

“Do you—do you think I’d scare her?”

“If you go running right over there? Yeah, maybe.”

“I just want to be friendly!”

“Mmm hmm.”

Magnus rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You don’t even date girls; what do you know?”

“I literally share a bedroom with a girl, dumbass.”

“Right. Asked and answered.” Magnus put his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

“Listen. I’m not saying don’t talk to her, just maybe don’t charge at her like a runaway fucking train.”

“I wasn’t gonna—”

Taako gave him a look, and Magnus was forced to consider that actually, maybe that was what he’d been planning to do. So instead, he said, “Fine. I’m gonna go say hi to Rowan, who is already on that side of the gym, and then talk to her like a non-creep.”

Taako widened his eyes with mock pride. “What a moment of growth! I’m so honored I was here to witness the day when—”

“Fuck off.”

Magnus exchanged fist bumps and small talk with Rowan, but he kept glancing at the girl. He really, really didn’t want to be a creep, but holy shit, it was hard not to watch her. She was just tying her shoes, but every time she moved it was purposeful, confident. Plus, half the time he snuck a glance at her, she was looking at him. That must mean something. Did it mean something? God, this waiting around was torture. He had to talk to her.

So, he left Rowan with a promise to talk more during the lunch break, and picked his way around the edge of the gym until he got to the girl. He walked right up to where she was sitting, and she stood up. She was just as tall as he was—their eyes were perfectly level. There was a small mole on her chin that he hadn’t been able to see from far away. It moved as she smiled at him. “Hi?” she said, making it a question. Just that one word, but fuck, he could listen to her voice forever.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m Magnus. I noticed you were new, and just wanted to welcome you to the tournament.”

“Thanks. I’m Julia.”

“Magnus.”

“I gathered,” she said, and one of her friends giggled behind her.

Magnus felt his face grow hot. “Right. Uh, where are you guys from?” That was a normal, non-creepy question, right?

“Raven’s Roost,” she said.

“That’s a long drive from here.”

She shrugged. “It’s not that bad. Especially when your _friends_ think the speed limit is a gentle suggestion.” She shot a look back at the other two girls, who laughed. Magnus laughed, too, and Julia looked kind of pleased with herself. “Where are you from?”

“Faerun.”

“We drove right through Faerun on the way here! It’s such a tiny town, I’d never have guessed it had a fencing team.”

“Well, size isn’t everything,” Magnus said without thinking, and then clapped a hand over his mouth. Had he actually just made a dick joke in front of this very pretty and funny and cool stranger? Lighting should fucking strike him now.

But Julia laughed. And she didn’t just giggle—she threw her head back, sending a waterfall of dark hair down her back, and belly-laughed, loud and unapologetic. She was laughing like that because of _him_. His self-confidence had never turned around faster. _As strange as it seems, the sound of her laughter will sing in your dreams._

Maybe those old-ass musicals knew what they were talking about.

———

In their first set of bouts, Lup and her boys absolutely destroyed the Phandolin team. It was not a difficult thing to do—they were all freshmen and seemed like they’d been fencing for fifteen minutes—but it was good for morale. And they were going to need every advantage they could if they were going to beat those Wonderboro fucks.

Brian was all right. He was a dick to them, but Lup always got the sense that was kind of a peer pressure thing, like if his teammates weren’t there controlling him he’d probably be chill. Plus, she and Taako could beat him about half the time, and Magnus had a decent shot at him as well. It was the other two they had to worry about.

Edward and Lydia. People were always fucking comparing them to her and Taako, just because they were fencing twins. It was bullshit. Okay, maybe they also had a flair for the dramatic that an idiot might mistake for being similar to the way she and her brother presented themselves, but fuck that. Lup and Taako were dramatic on the strip to make themselves look good. Edward and Lydia were dramatic on the strip to get away with hurting other people. They hit off-target on purpose to injure their opponents, to slow them down and make them lose focus. They aimed for people’s crotches, for their thighs and upper arms and even fingers if they could get them, and if anyone accused them of doing it on purpose they’d wail and carry on like they were being done some great injustice. Their coach, a deeply creepy dude who always wore suits, was one of the few coaches who actually came to tournaments, and he’d get himself involved, arguing with the ref until they just gave up.

The problem was that it worked. Team Wonderborohad come first in all but one tournament last year. Lup hadn’t ever beaten them. At the last tournament junior year, she’d been 4-4 with Edward, and he’d hit her so hard in her thigh that it left a welt. She’d fallen, he’d sworn it was an accident, and the ref decided she was too injured to continue. She’d been itching to get back at him all summer.

Unfortunately, Magnus was fighting Edward this time. The results were as awful as they were predictable. Edward loved to set traps, to hold his sword away from his body and invite his opponent to attach him. Fucker knew he was fast enough to parry anything, and suddenly his opponent was too close to escape. It was a completely legal thing to do, and Lup knew plenty of lovely people who used that strategy—hell, she’d used it herself—but something about the way he smirked when he did it made her blood boil. Also, Magnus fell for it every. Single. Time. He saw a clear target and just launched himself at it, giving Edward complete control of the space, of his body, of the whole damn bout. He lost, and it sucked.

Taako fought Brian next, and won narrowly but cleanly. When they shook hands at the end, Lup could almost imagine that it was comradely, like when they fought Roswell or Antonia or Noelle. But then Lydia whispered something to Brian, and he snickered and looked pointedly at Taako, and Lup considered hitting him in the head with her pommel.

She didn’t. Instead, she hooked herself into the electric system and faced Lydia. Lydia’s blade flashed rainbow through the air as she saluted. That was another thing Lup hated about Team Wonderboro—they had the literal coolest swords. They were all blue steel, nearly black but flashing blue and green and red when they caught the light, and just fucking gorgeous. They were also lightweight and zippy, and therefore strategically useful. Lup’s sword was borrowed from Davenport. It worked fine, and it was a pistol grip which meant it was a tiny bit cool, but the guard was dinged and scratched from years of use and the base of the blade was dark with rust that wouldn’t come off, no matter how much she scrubbed at it.

So yeah. Fuck Lydia.

_Don’t fence angry._ She could hear Davenport’s voice in her head, calm and sharp. He was right, but also, that ship had sailed. She was angry. She just hoped she could be angry and controlled at the same time.

Lup pulled her mask on and got in en garde position. The ref called for them to begin, and they did, advancing slowly until they were just out of each other’s range. Lup did a beat on Lydia’s blade, tapping it lightly once, twice, and then hitting it hard. As Lydia pressed hard to compensate, Lup slipped her blade and lunged, catching her cleanly in the stomach. Lydia had counterattacked—Lup could feel her blade punching her shoulder, heard both the buzzers sound—but that didn’t matter, Lup had gone first, she had—

“Priority left,” the ref said, holding his hand out to Lydia. Lup swore under her breath. She’d forgotten to threat before she lunged. Her elbow had been bent, and Lydia’s hadn’t, and so even though she hit first, she didn’t get the point. Davenport was always on her case about threating. She should have fucking known better.

Whatever. It was just the first point. She had plenty of time to catch up.

She did not catch up.

Lup didn’t lose as badly as Magnus had, but she didn’t win, and she definitely had new bruises on her shoulder and hip. She was aching, and it wasn’t even lunch time yet. When they shook hands, Lydia gripped her’s tight. “Good game,” she said, with a fake-sweet smile. “I know you tried your best.”

“You handle that thing well,” Lup said, nodding to Lydia’s sword. “One day you’ll be strong enough for a big girl sword, I’m sure.” It wasn’t Lup’s best, but Lydia’s face turned dark anyway, and she snatched her hand away.

Taako took Lup’s arm. “Come on, Lulu,” he told her. “Just one more match before lunch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue steel swords are actually a thing, and they are every bit as cool as Lup thinks they are. They also have that Hunger Aesthetic TM, so obvi our bad guys have them.


	6. Chapter 6

Team Starblaster were up against the kids from Refuge next. They stood a decent chance—Roswell could kick anyone’s ass, but Ren and Cassidy were only decent fencers. Still, Lup found it hard to consider her bout with Cassidy when this sour feeling in the pitot her stomach kept drawing her eyes back to the Wonderboro team.

“Hey,” said Taako, leaning against her arm. “Listen. I made this bet with Ren—if we beat Refuge, she’ll get her grandma to do hand made clotted cream to go with her scones at the next bout.”

“That’s cool,” said Lup, not really paying attention.

“Did you hear me? I said _hand. Made. Clotted. Cream._” He poked her in the side with each word, making her giggle. “Do not fuck this up for me.”

“Okay, okay! I’m focused.”

“You better fucking be.”

“I am!” And, she realized, she wasn’t lying. Thank fuck for her brother, making her laugh and getting her out of crisis mode.

Cassidy was an erratic fencer, which made her hard to hit, but also made it harder for her to hit Lup. It wasn’t easy, but Lup eventually beat her by two points. Then, Taako lost to Roswell as expected and Magnus eked out a narrow victory over Ren, giving their team just a few more points than Refuge’s.

“FUCK! YES!” Taako shouted as Magnus and Ren left the strip. “More food for me!”

“I threw the match,” Ren said, deadpan. “It’s more food for me too.”

“Wait, really?” Magnus asked.

“No, man, you got me. Killer taking-of-the-blade, by the way.”

“Thanks!”

They bumped fists, and then Ren dragged Taako off to eat with her. Magnus saluted Lup and went to find his other friends. Sometimes, Lup ate lunch with Ren and Taako, and sometimes she ate with Magnus’s crowd—either group was always happy to have her—but today, she made her way back to the section of the bleachers where they’d left their bags. There was Barry, hunched over a huge biology textbook he had balanced on one knee, the end of his pencil in his mouth.

“Barold!” she called.

Barry looked up, momentarily confused, and then he smiled at her. It made the crease between his eyebrows disappear.

“Whatcha working on?”

“Bio reading. It’s pretty easy, but Faerun U wouldn’t let me test out of my intro classes, and who knows, I could have missed something.” The way he said it indicated to Lup that he definitely hadn’t missed anything.

“Are you some kind of super-nerd?”

Barry laughed. “No, I just read a lot. You know.”

She peered over his shoulder. “You read a lot about the life cycle of fungi?”

“Fungi are cool! Like, we’re all fed by death, but fungi feed _on_ death. They make life out of it. It’s kind of beautiful.”

Lup considered this. “I guess it is. And some fungi taste super fucking good, so there’s that.”

“There’s that,” Barry agreed.

“Speaking of, lunch time!” Lup pulled a plastic grocery bag from her fencing bag, and started to set out her lunch: a container of linguine fra diavolo topped with asparagus (wrapped in a dish cloth so it would stay warm), ricotta cheese with honey and cinnamon, and a thermos of iced hibiscus tea.

Barry followed suit, bulling out two PB&J sandwiches on white bread and an apple.

“No offense, Bar,” Lup said, cracking open her container, “but that is the single most boring lunch I’ve ever seen anyone eat.”

“I’ve got three Werther’s somewhere, for desert.”

“Werther’s? Are you literally an old man?”

“Do you want one?”

“I mean, of course. You want some of my tea?”

“I’d love that.”

———

“How’s the freshman?” Magnus asked Rowan and Antonia, nodding to the skinny kid who was sitting on the bleachers not far away. Magnus, Rowan, Antonia, Carey, Killian, and Noelle were sitting in a circle on the floor, eating lunch.

“Artemis? He’s a twerp,” Antonia said.

Rowan added, “His parents bought him all this fancy equipment, and he seems to think owning good shit makes him good at fencing. It doesn’t.”

“No kidding,” said Killian. “That was the fastest ten point bout I’ve ever fought.”

Noelle said, “There ain’t nothing wrong with being a beginner.”

“Course not,” said Antonia. “But thinking you’re hot shit when you’re incompetent isn’t a good look for anyone.”

Rowan added, “He’s a sore loser, too. He fucking throws his mask on the ground when he loses. I guess if you can afford to just replace it, you don’t have to take care of your stuff, but it hurts my heart to see nice equipment treated that way.”

Magnus and Carey exchanged a guilty glance—both of them were notoriously rough on their masks.

“Anyway,” said Rowan, “enough about him. Carey, have you gotten detention yet this year?”

“Not yet. I’m trying to be a little more measured. I don’t want to get kicked out of a school where there’s actually people I like.”

“Aww,” Killian said, knocking her shoulder into Carey’s. “You like us!”

“I was talking about Magnus,” Carey said primly, but she’d gone a little pink. “You guys can suck it.”

Magnus laughed, and so did the others.

After lunch, the Starblasters fought the home team, Felicity High. Artemis was, as advertised, easy to beat. Rowan and Antonia both gave them a run for their money, but ultimately, the three of them won all their bouts. They beat St. Ioun’s (colloquially known as Team Sweet Flips), too, though Taako lost to Killian. And then the Starblasters were face to face with the new team, who Lup said were from Raven’s Roost.

“Oh! Merle works at the hospital in Raven’s Roost,” said Taako.

“Why do you _know_ that?” Lup asked at the same time as Magnus said, “Doesn’t he work at the one in Faerun?”

“He’s part time at a couple different places,” Taako said. “And don’t tell Mavis I said this, but Merle’s actually a pretty chill dude.”

Lup snorted. “Sure. Whatever. Magnus, it looks like you’re up first, against Waxmen-comma-Julia, and then it’s me versus Hurley-comma-Jacqueline and Taako versus Kang-comma-Sloane.”

“I’m fighting Julia?”

“Oh shit,” said Taako, “is that the one you’re into? Lup, you should have seen it, he was making the biggest puppy dog eyes at her, it was disgusting.”

“Aw! Well, don’t get too distracted. We’ve got an average to keep up.”

“You got it, Lup,” Magnus said, but he wasn’t sure that was something he was going to be able to do. Julia was standing on the other side of the strip, re-doing her ponytail, and the way her hair glimmered in the fluorescent lights was something like magic.

Still, he hooked himself into the wires. He turned to salute her, and there she was, just grinning at him. His heart was a kick-drum. He grinned back.

When the referee called, “Fence!” Magnus launched into his standard strategy—continuous redoubles with disengages until his opponent ran out of room or didn’t parry fast enough (or parried too fast and skewered him, but he preferred not to consider that option). It wan’t how Davenport would have told him to begin—he should start slower, spend more time figuring her out, give her the first couple points so he could win in the long term—but hell, it worked more than it didn’t, and Magnus didn’t have the patience to test the waters. It worked this time, too. Julia seemed surprised by his speed and stumbled back, only parrying three times before he caught her in the shoulder, just on the edge of on-target. The ref called the touch for him, and they came back to the center.

Magnus squinted at Julia’s face behind her mask, trying to read her expression. He hoped she wasn’t pissed at him for getting the point. She seemed focused, with her eyebrows low and her lower lip between her teeth. The ref called, “Fence,” and she exploded forward at the same time as he did, doing a big swooping taking-of-the-blade that he couldn’t disengage out of and hitting him in the hip. As they reset, she flashed him a smile.

So. That strategy wasn’t going to work again. Magnus let her take the initiative next, and parried her first attack. She pressed back—Jesus, but she had a hard hand—and their guards clanged together. Magnus retreated, freeing his blade, but she redoubled with this huge flying lunge just as he went to attach. They both missed completely, ramming their shoulders together, and Magnus fell back on his ass, laughing. Julia was laughing, too, hands braced on her knees.

The ref seemed less amused. “Corps-a-corps,” he said. “Reset, and watch yourselves.”

They did so. Julia’s shoulders were still shaking with laughter, and Magnus couldn’t seem to stop smiling.

They continued that way for the whole bout, never getting more than one point ahead of each other, and laughing more than Magnus had ever laughed at a tournament. The ref looked like he’d love to card them, but since neither of them were talking, they weren’t technically breaking any rules. Finally, when they were tied 9-9, Magnus simply didn’t parry hard enough—seriously, this girl was so strong, what was up with that?—and she won. It was kind of anti-climactic, but honestly, it had been so much fun, who cared?

They saluted, and went to shake hands, both of them still a little breathless from the fight. Well, Magnus was also breathless from being so close to her. The shook, and she whispered, “Sorry for knocking you down.”

“It’s cool,” he whispered back. _You’re so cool. _

At last, the tournament was over. The Wonderboro team won, of course, and everyone clapped unenthusiastically as they accepted their medals. The Raven’s Roost team came in second, and the Starblasters won third place, although Lup had snuck behind the judges’ table and said it was really close. The volunteers were prying tape from the floor, and a big group of the fencers were loitering near the door, reluctant to leave the friends they saw so rarely. Team Wonderboro sauntered past, flaunting their plastic medals like they meant something. 

“They’re so fucking smug. One of us better beat them this year,” Magnus said to Carey. 

“Maybe those new kids’ll beat them,” she said. “They came second, and they aren’t total dipshits, so I’d support them. Just as long as someone takes Edward and Lydia down.”

“Yeah. They’re pretty cool.” Magnus looked over to where Julia was standing with her teammates. She was looking back at him, but turned away when their eyes met.

“Roswell thinks—wait. Are you checking that girl out?”

“Her name is Julia.”

“Magnus Burnsides, do you have a crush on the new girl?” Carey asked delightedly.

“Maybe. Yeah. Holy shit, I really do.”

“Fuck yeah! Welcome to Hell. Population: us.”

Magnus laughed. 

Carey grabbed his arm. “Wait shit she’s coming over!”

Sure enough, Julia was walking towards the two of them. Her smile was nervous but her pace was sure. She stopped just in front of the two of them.

Julia took a deep breath, and then said, “Hi.” 

“Hi.”

“I, uh, I think I should put my number in your phone.”

“I agree! And I think I should put my number in your phone.”

“Yup. Definitely. For sure. Here.” She handed him her phone, and he handled her his, and they made each other contacts. She pressed his phone back into his hands, and said, “Cool. Uh, see you later!” She shot finger guns at him, and then ran back to where her friends were standing. She covered her whole face with her hands and giggled and it was basically the cutest thing Magnus had ever seen. 

“I think I’m dying,” he said to Carey. “Is this what dying feels like?”

“Yes,” She said, with a glance at Killian. “Fuck, Magnus, I can’t believe she just gave you her number after you’ve known her for fifteen seconds!”

“It’s more like three hours at this point.” Carey punched him in the arm, and he laughed. Then, lowering his voice, he said, “Anyway, you have Killian’s number.” 

“That’s different,” she hissed back. “It’s friendly. And utilitarian. It doesn’t _mean_ anything!” 

“It could if you wanted it to.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I can’t change how she feels about shit by just—“

“What are you guys talking about?” It was Killian, who’d abandoned Ren and was standing right in front of them. 

“Nothing,” Magnus and Carey said at the same time. 

Killian raised an eyebrow at them. “You better not be planning any pranks,” she said. “If anyone ever puts pudding in my pockets again, I’ll actually kill them.” 

“No pranks, Killy, I promise,” said Carey. 

Killian still looked skeptical, but she just said, “The bus driver’s getting antsy. Noelle’s already on board. You ready to go?”

“Yeah. Bye, Mag!”

“Bye, Carey.”

As Magnus watched her leave, he could feel his heart fizzing inside him. He had Julia’s number—he had the whole world!


	7. Chapter 7

Faerun Memorial Hospital was so fucking big for no reason. There weren’t enough people in town to justify all these goddamn corridors, Merle thought. He was hiking all the way from the geriatric department to long-term pediatric care. At least the kid wasn’t terminal this time. Merle was good at his job, but it was hard to bring any kind of comfort to a dying teenager. This one _had_ just been diagnosed with something chronic, though. That was rough. Maybe he could talk to them about the nature of change, the opportunities for growth—or maybe he’d let the kid complain at him, be a grownup who wasn’t calling them “brave” in that tone that nurses never meant to sound condescending, but always did. It was hard to know what was needed until he got there.

And speaking of getting there, where was he now? Shit, he’d overshot his turn, and now he’d have to cut through the outpatient surgery waiting room if he wanted to be anything like on time.

He glanced around the room, heading for the hallway on the otherwise, and almost didn’t notice Lucretia, half-hidden behind a fishing magazine. She was sitting alone by the back wall with a large purse on the chair behind her.

“Lucretia!”

She looked up abruptly, gazing at him with a startled, almost guilty, expression. “Oh! Hello, Merle.”

“Hey! You waiting for someone?”

“Um, no, I’m here for an appointment—Merle, are you a doctor?”

Merle let out a loud guffaw. “Could you imagine me, a doctor? No, no, I’m a chaplain. I try and bring sick folks joy and comfort and shit.”

Lucretia still looked startled, but the corners of her mouth twitched. “Well, it was good to see you, Merle. I don’t want to keep you from spreading joy.”

“Sure thing! Wait—are you here alone?”

“Yes?”

“Do you have someone to drive you home?”

“No, but I can drive myself.”

“You sure? I know some of these anesthesiologists. They’ve got heavy hands.”

“I won’t be going under. It’s just local anesthetic.”

“Still, it’s dangerous. I’ve only got another hour and a half, I can drive you home.”

Lucretia sighed. “I appreciate your concern, Merle, but I have done this literally dozens of times. I’ll be fine.”

Merle considered this. He didn’t know Lucretia well—had never seen her outside of fencing—but he’d seen enough of her to know that she was a very competent woman who knew what she was doing. He also knew she had a tendency to fight even when her legs were giving her trouble. He wasn’t sure if that was a broader personality trait of hers, or just a fencing quirk, but he didn’t feel comfortable just letting her stumble out of surgery and onto the roads alone.

“I believe ya!” he told her. “But listen, at least let me buy you a cup of coffee or something, so you can sharpen up before you leave.”

“That isn’t necessary.”

“I know. And if you really don’t want to, I’ll leave you alone. But if you want a free coffee—or tea, or whatever—I’ll be in the cafe by the front lobby.”

She sighed again. Merle got the feeling she did that a lot. “That’s very kind.”

“Yeah, well. Gotta look out for my sword buddies. See you later!”

“See you,” she said, quietly.

Merle did not really expect Lucretia to meet him at the cafe, but when he finally left his last patient (over in gastroenterology—were they trying to kill him?) and trekked to the front of the hospital, she was already there, nursing a paper cup of tea.

“Shit,” he said, sitting down across from here. “I meant to beat you here.”

“It really was a simple procedure. You can still buy me a refill, if you want.”

“Glad to! What do you want?”

“Honestly? I’d love a glass of wine. I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to drink for another eight hours, though.”

Merle laughed. “Well, what will you settle for?”

“Just black tea, please.”

“You got it.”

Merle went to the counter and ordered a tea for her and a coffee for himself. He swiped some extra sugar packets from the counter before heading back to their table. She’d picked one of his favorites, by the big planter with the Chinese Evergreen that was trying to take over the whole lobby.

“How’d everything go?” he asked.

“Oh, you know,” she said. “Fine.”

“Great.”

She took a sip of her tea.

He took a sip of his coffee.

“How was your chaplain-ing?” she asked.

“Fine. Lots of walking, though.”

“Well, that’s supposed to be good for you.”

“Yup.”

She took a sip of her tea.

He took a sip of his coffee.

Maybe this had been a bad idea.

“So,” Merle said, finally, “how’d you get into fencing?”

Lucretia smiled, and it was something closer to genuine. “I fence for the same reason I’m here today. My legs are…challenging. My doctor said I should do a sport to keep them going.”

Merle nodded. “That makes sense.”

“I was looking for something that wasn’t too—I don’t love team sports. I knew Davenport from when I was in journalism school, and he told me about this fencing class.”

“Wait—what was Davenport doing at journalism school?”

“He wasn’t a student, if that’s what you’re asking. He taught a seminar on international politics.”

“I thought he used to be a sea captain. Isn’t that why Magnus calls him Cap’n’port?”

Lucretia laughed softly. “I think he was that too. He’s had a lot of careers.”

“Incredible.”

“Why did _you_ start fencing?”

Merle was surprised by the question—he thought everyone knew already. “I’m trying to spend more time with Mavis. I thought it’d be a fun way to, I don’t know, bond.”

“How’s that going?” she asked, and now she_ definitely_ knew the answer already.

“You know,” Merle said. “She’s a teenager. Do you have kids, Lucretia?”

“No, I—No. I don’t.”

“You get along well with the kids at fencing, anyway. Kids are fantastic, right? The funniest people in the world. But it’s different when they’re yours. I’m just trying not to fuck Mavis up too badly.”

Lucretia patted Merle lightly on the back of his hand. “I suspect you’re doing just fine.”

Merle grimaced. “Thanks. We’ll see.”

Lucretia checked her phone and then drained her tea. “I’m sorry, I have to get back to work.”

“Hey, no problem! Thanks for getting drinks with me.”

“I’ll—I’ll let you know next time I have to get one of these procedures. Maybe we can do this again.”

——

Magnus had been home for three hours, meaning it had been roughly four hours since he’d gotten Julia’s number, meaning it was officially not creepy or overeager to text her. Keep it light, keep it chill—generally, “you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen and you also kick ass” was not the best way to open a conversation, even if it was true. So he opened with,

_Hey this is magnus from the fencing tournament! Just wanted to make sure I have your number right lol_

She replied quickly, and Magnus wondered whether she had been waiting for him to text, or just was already on her phone.

_Julia: Hey magnus! Yeah it’s julia. What’s up?_

_Magnus: Just homework :/ u?_

_Julia: Same :////_

Okay, that’s a boring thing to talk about. He needed a conversation hook. Something about fencing seemed like the obvious choice.

_Magnus: How long have u been fencing? You’re really good_

_Julia: Aaaaaaa thanks!!! Yeah I’ve been fencing since 6th grade so 5 years I guess? Wbu?_

_Magnus: Oh cool! Ur a junior then? Me too! And I started in 8th grade, so just 3 years lol_

_Julia: You’re good for only 3 years!!!_

Magnus grimaced. Was that meant to be underhanded? Was he being negged? That didn’t seem like Julia’s style, but then again, he’d only known her for seven hours. He decided to take it as a compliment.

_Magnus: Thanks!_

_Magnus: If youve been fencing for so long, how come this is the first tournament youve been to?_

_Julia: Lol we just found out abt them! Id have been doing them for years if id known, they’re so fun!!!_

_Magnus: Fencing you was really fun_

_Julia: Even tho I knocked you over?_

Magnus hesitated, and then typed out, _u swept me off my feet :). _He deleted it, typed it again, and hit send.

He waited. Seconds ticked by so slowly, he thought there must be something wrong with his alarm clock.

Finally, his phone buzzed.

_Julia: Awwwww ^_ ‿ _^u too _

Magnus breathed. Reading that text was like taking off his backpack after a long day.

_Magnus: What else do u like, other than fencing?_

_Julia: Oh man, like everything? i’m the president of the feminism club and vp of the GSA, I play soccer and I’m in choir. And I usually do theater but I think I have to skip it this semester bc I’m running for student council president (AAAAAAAAAA)_

_Magnus: Holy shit that’s so much_

_Julia: Yeah lol I pretty much don’t sleep_

_Julia: Not looking forward to adding college apps next year ://_

_Julia: Wbu?_

_Magnus: Not as much as you lol. I do sculptures and draw sometimes. I love animals, esp dogs. I also love music but idk any instruments and I’m the world’s worst singer_

_Julia: Lol im sure you’re not that bad!_

_Magnus: Ill prove it if you want_

_Julia: I’m ok lol. Can I see ur art tho?_

_Magnus: Sure_

Magnus pulled out his sketchpad and snapped a quick photo of what he was currently working on: a study of three ducks taking flight from the surface of the pond. He was trying to figure out how the water would cling to them as they flew away—and if it didn’t how he was going to get this fucking statue to hold together.

_Julia: that’s really good!!!_

_Magnus: Thanks! It’s fun lol. _

_Magnus: Oh! And i play amtguard!_

_Julia: ????_

Magnus explained the general concept.

_Julia: Dude that’s so cool!!! I wanna play!_

_Magnus: Come over on Saturday, play with us!_

_Julia: Seriously?_

_Magnus: Yeah for sure! _

_Julia: Ok! Ill be there!!!_

Holy shit. Julia was coming to Amtguard. Magnus switched to the groupchat—he still had to add Killian and Noelle to it, he couldn’t forget to do that this week—and wrote, _Julia’s coming this weekend. Be nice to her!!!_


	8. Chapter 8

That Saturday dawned bright and breezy. The ground was still damp from last night’s rain, but not so muddy they’d slide around in it. The trees that bordered the field by Magnus’s house were turning orange, and the bittersweet vines that clung to the fence were putting out their first berries. It was a perfect day for fighting.

Magnus couldn’t remember ever being so nervous in his life.

He and Julia had been texting all week, and, well, he liked her a lot. He’d been into her from the moment he saw her, obviously, but now he was starting to seriously like _her. _She cared so much about things, and she was so funny and smart and—well, he just wanted her to like him back. So maybe inviting her to Amtgaurd had been the wrong move. He loved his friends, but they could be kind of a lot, if you weren’t expecting them. He’d told them to be nice, but knowing Taako and Lup, that could easily backfire.

As they all began to arrive, first Lup and Taako, walking over from their grandfather’s house, and then Mavis and Angus, and Barry, and finally the girls from St. Ioun’s, a new worry crept up on him—that she wouldn’t show up at all. She’d said yesterday that she was coming, but did that mean anything?

Taako must have seen him fretting, because he came up and punched Magnus lightly on the arm. “She’ll be here,” he said. “And if she doesn’t show, fuck her.”

“He’s trying to do that either way,” said Carey, who materialized at his other elbow.

“I hate you both,” Magnus said, but he did feel a little bit better.

“Maybe we should just start,” Carey said. “We can catch her up when she gets here.”

Magnus was about to agree when an unfamiliar blue car pulled up in front of the field. The door opened, and everything inside Magnus went quiet. There she was, as beautiful as he could have imagined, in black denim shorts and a t-shirt from a school performance of Pippin with the sleeves cut off. She had fencer’s legs—strong thighs and defined calves. Her hair was up in a ponytail that spilled over her shoulders, and she when she saw him, she grinned.

“Sorry,” she said, “I got lost. This neighborhood is so wind-y!”

“You’re just in time,” Magnus said. “Let me introduce you to everyone.”

If Magnus thought he couldn’t find Julia any cooler, he was wrong. She made a beeline for the Berzerker, the biggest sword in the bunch, and wielded it pretty competently for two big team battles. She died pretty quickly the first time, but survived the whole second battle, and she didn’t even seem tired! Magnus’s arms hurt after just one battle with that sword.

They were regrouping after the second battle when Lup pulled herself up from the patch of clover she’d died in, and announced,“I’m sick of fighting! I want to see some DUELS!”

Julia leaned close to Magnus and asked, “That’s just what it sounds like, right? Like one on one battles?”

“Yeah.”

“Awesome.” She hefted the Berzerker onto her shoulder and flashed him a grin that made him weak at the knees. “Let’s dance.”

His friends sent up a chorus of “Ooo”s (and one “gross” from Taako) as the two of them took up places in the middle of the field. Magnus was grinning back, now, heart pounding, hands sweating against the duct tape hilt of his longsword. Julia’s hair was blowing in the fall breeze. She stood with her feet apart, knees bent, sword angled up and out toward him. God, but she was so cool.

Mavis stepped forward and put her arm out between the combatants. She counted them down, screamed “Lay on!” and jerked her hand back as they ran at each other.

Julia came in with a terrific swipe at Magnus’s left side, which he tried to block, but between the momentum of the sword and the strength of the girl wielding it, he wound up catching both blades in his left arm.

His friends cheered, mostly for Julia, although Angus called out a bright, “You can do it, sir!”

They separated, and Magnus tucked his left arm behind his back, scooching his right hand up on the hilt of his sword so that it was something like balanced. Focus, he told himself. If you were trying to impress a cool sword girl, being shitty at swords probably wouldn’t help. He rushed in, and she took another huge swipe at him, but this time he was ready. He dove to the ground, feeling the wind from her swing on his back and head, and as she tried to wrestle Berserker back up, he swung at her legs. She leaped back, but not quickly enough, and Magnus caught her on her right ankle.

“Fuck,” she said, picking up her leg. She wobbled for a moment, but found her balance and hefted her sword, sending it crashing down at Magnus. He rolled out of the way and started to scramble back to his feet when Julia took his legs absolutely out from under him. He landed on his ass with a curse and flailed out with his sword in her direction. She tried to hop backwards but fell down, too, and Magnus tapped her remaining shin lightly with his sword.

“That’s so not fair,” she said, but she was half-laughing as she said it.

“Hey, I’ve only got one arm! I’ve got to do what I can.”

“Lame!” Carey called from the sidelines, and Magnus turned to stick out his tongue at her. As he did so, Julia whacked him in the back with the Berserker.

“You’re dead,” she said, getting to her feet. She held out a hand to him, and he took it.

“It was a good match, though,” he said, and she beamed at him.

“It was a terrible match,” Lup said. “You both just fell the fuck over. Come on, Mavey, let’s show them how it’s done!”

Magnus and Julia retired to the sidelines as Lup and Mavis took the field. Theirs was, indeed, a more dramatic battle, but Magnus barely noticed it. Julia was standing with her shoulder next to his. The backs of their hands were touching. Her skin was soft and sun-warmed, and she smelled like grass and dirt and sweat, and Magnus basically couldn’t form coherent thoughts. Slowly, he linked his pinkie with hers, and he thought his chest would explode when she tightened her finger around his.

——————

Eventually, they all burned themselves out and collapsed on the grass—everyone except Magnus, who was indomitable and romping around with Fisher. Lup found herself next to Julia, who was tying little knots in blades of grass and listening to the others joke. She wasn’t joking herself, and Lup thought of Magnus’s text. _Be nice to her._

So, Lup said, “Can I braid your hair?”

Julia looked up, surprised. “Uh, sure. I’m kind of sweaty, though.”

“I don’t mind. I do Taako’s hair when it’s way grosser, I promise.”

So Julia sat up, and Lup settled herself cross-legged behind her, combing her fingers through Julia’s tangly curls.

“Tell me if I’m pulling too hard.”

Julia hummed an acknowledgement. “I’ve got a pretty hard head. You’re probably fine.”

“You have really thick hair,” Lup said. “Mine used to be like this, when it was long.”

“Your hair used to be long?”

“Yeah, super long. Longer than Taako’s.”

“Dude. That’s wild. Why did you cut it, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Lup snorted. “It’s chill. It was not my shiningest moment, but uh, this summer—I like to cook, and Taako and I are always fucking around with new recipes, and we’d heard that you could grill watermelon, so we were going to try that. I’m better with fire than he is, usually, so I was setting up the grill, but it wasn’t lighting, and I looked over it to see what was wrong, and _fwoop!_” Lup snapped her fingers. “Big ol fireball.”

“Jesus Christ.” Julia looked over her shoulder. “Were you okay?”

“Yeah, I got my head out of the way. Unfortunately, my hair was not so lucky.”

“Fuck.”

“Pretty much. By the time I got it evened out, it was up over my shoulders. A goddamn tragedy.”

Julia winced. “That sucks so much. But, uh, for the record, I think you’re rocking the short hair.”

“Oh, I mean, of course I am. It was just a lot of years of growing it out, you know?”

Julia nodded, and Lup gave her hair a gentle yank.

“Keep your head still, or this braid’ll be crooked.”

“Sorry.” Julia was quiet for a moment, and then said, “That must have been so scary.”

“A little bit. But like, if I’m gonna die, a fireball’s not a bad way to go. It’s badass at least.”

Julia laughed. “I don’t know, though, it’s pretty violent.”

“Okay,” said Lup, a note of challenge in her voice, “best and worst way to die, go.”

“What, like, what I think they are?”

“Yeah, obvi.”

“Well, best is like old age, right? Surrounded by fat grandbabies and all that.”

Lup groaned. “That’s a total cop out answer, and you know it.”

“Okay, then, what’s yours?”

“I don’t plan to ever die.”

“That’s a way worse cop out. Come on.”

Lup sighed. She slid a hair tie off her wrist and looped it around the chunk of Julia’s hair that was done. “Best would be, like, any way that was at the same time as the people I love. I don’t want to outlive anyone, and I don’t want anyone to have to outlive me.” She glanced at Taako as she spoke.

Julia put on a fake stoner voice and said, “That’s deep,” sending them both into giggles.

“Fuck me for being vulnerable, I guess,” said Lup, but she was grinning, and Julia laughed again. “Okay, I did it. Your turn.”

“I mean, even though it is a cop out, my first answer was legit. I want to die old and loved and not in that much pain.” She let out a breath and tipped her head back a bit. “Worst—worst would be falling. I don’t love heights, and going _squish_ would be, uh, pretty fucking bad.”

Lup nodded, and then realized Julia couldn’t see her and said, “That would indeed suck.”

“Yep. You?”

“Um, I guess, poison?”

“Really? Why?”

“Cause, like, if you’re being poisoned, it means you’ve trusted someone you shouldn’t have. And that’s scary. Also, like, we had to do this Bio project last year about poisonous plants, and some of that shit is real gnarly. Like, silverpoint? That’ll fuck you up.”

“Gross.”

Fisher bounded over to them, Magnus close on her heels. “I’m going in for a minute,” he told them. “Do you guys need anything? Like water or?”

“I’m good,” said Lup.

Julia said, “I’d love some water.”

“Great. I’ll be back in a sec. Uh, Julia, your hair looks awesome.”

“Thanks.” She beamed up at him, and he beamed back. Between the two of them, it was like having the whole-ass sun in the yard. People in love were exhausting.

“What’s going on with you two?” Lup asked, although she wasn’t completely sure she wanted to know.

“I’m not sure yet. This is literally the second time we’ve met in person, you know? Like, we’ve been texting for a week, and now I’m hanging out in his whole friend group.”

Lup snorted. “That’s Magnus for you. Kid makes friends fast.”

“How did you guys meet?”

“God, I hardly remember. It was like a hundred years ago.”

Julia shot her a glance, and Lup amended, “Not literally a hundred years, natch. It was, uh, seventh grade. Taako and I had just moved to town, and it was the middle of the year, so no one wanted to be friends with us. Not that we wanted to be friends with them either—middle schoolers are awful.”

“No kidding.”

“But then Magnus, this sixth grader, like, a literal infant, started hanging out with us in the bus line. And we couldn’t get him to stop talking to us—and then we stopped trying, because he was a relatively cool baby, and like, who else were we going to hang out with? And then he found out we fenced and joined the beginner class, and the rest is history.”

Julia laughed. “I can so see him doing that. Baby Magnus, just like attaching himself to people.”

“He still does it. He did it to you.”

“I guess he did. Although, to be fair, I kind of did it to him too.”

Lup laughed. “You’re as bad as each other. Give me your hair tie.”

Julia slipped a hair band from her wrist and passed it to Lup. “It’s not a problem for me to be here, is it? I know you all are, like, an established group.”

“Of course not! And we’re not that established, anyway. Barry, Noelle, and Killian have only been here once before. There you go, what do you think?”

Julia pulled out her phone and checked her braid on the camera. “It’s cute!” she said. “Thank you. And thank you for, like, talking to me. I was kind of worried.”

“Sure thing!”

Magnus re-emerged from the house, then, with two plastic pitchers of ice water and a stack of cups. He handed one to Julia, and they did their little you’re-the-prettiest-person-in-the-world smiles at each other. Then Magnus turned to Lup and handed her a cup. “I know you said you were good,” he said, “but you never drink enough water.”

Lup rolled her eyes. “Thanks, Mom-gnus.” Bust she accepted the cup and let Magnus pour her some water.

Magnus passed out the rest of the cups, and then settled down on the grass next to the two girls. “What did you think?” he asked Julia.

“It was fun,” she said. “I’d like to come back, if that’s okay with you guys. I don’t know if I can make every week—this semester is going to be _crazy_—but you know. When I can.”

“You’re always welcome,” said Magnus, very seriously. His hand was right next to hers in the grass.

Lup stood up. “I’m going to go find Barry,” she said, “make sure he isn’t moping or anything. You two have fun.” She could actually see Barry from where she was, and he was having a very animated discussion with Noelle, but they were probably about to get mushy, and she was happy to leave them to it. There’s only so much puppy love a person can take.

———---- 

And now Magnus was alone with Julia. Well, not alone-alone, all his friends were out on the field behind him. But nobody else was talking to them. It was just her, looking at him with those incredible brown eyes.

“I was wondering,” Julia began, and then paused.

“Yeah?”

“Well, you’re like, an art person, right?”

“I guess.”

“I was wondering if you’d be willing to draw me. For—for campaign posters. I told you I’m running for student council president, right?”

“You did.” Magnus wasn’t quite sure how to respond. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting her to say, but this wasn’t it.

“Yeah, and none of my friends draw, and since you do, I was hoping you could do, like a portrait? That I could use.”

“I can try! I’ve never done something like that, but I mean, I do draw.”

“Awesome!”

“When were you thinking we could do this?”

Julia had pulled up a piece of grass and was twisting it between her fingers. “Well,” she said, “what are you doing this afternoon?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shanah Tovah to my Jewish readers! Let's make 5780 amazing.


	9. Chapter 9

Julia’s room was painted lavender and cream, and seemed too small for her. She’d led him up the stairs, past her dad, who called after them to keep the door open, and into the tiny space, where she tossed first her keys and then herself onto the twin bed. Magnus took a seat at her desk chair. His knees were noticeably higher than his hips.

“Sorry,” she said. “I haven’t gotten new furniture since I was like ten.”

“It’s chill.” Magnus pulled out his sketchbook. “So tell me what you’re thinking for this portrait. I can’t do, like, photorealism or anything, but if you want it more or less cartoony, I can try for that.”

Julia considered. “I was thinking, like, you know those old Obama posters from when we were kids? They had like ‘hope’ and ‘change’ on them and stuff? Something like that.”

“Sick. I’ll try to make you look like a revolutionary.”

“That’s the idea! I am leading a coup, so.”

“No shit?”

“Oh man, I didn’t tell you yet?” She kind of bounced on the bed, and then paused. “It’s kind of a long story—should I wait until you’re done drawing?”

“No, go ahead. I can draw while you talk.” Magnus flipped to a clean page and looked at Julia. It was amazing to have permission to just look at her as much as he wanted. Something about the way her face moved when she spoke was hypnotic. There was no way he could capture it on paper, but maybe he could get _some _of her. If the kids at her school saw her the way he did, there was no way they’d vote for anyone else.

“Okay,” she said, “so. Since we were in sixth grade and started having a student council, this douchebag, Kalen, has been president. He’s literally the worst. He picks on everyone who’s not in his stupid little clique, and every time someone tries to fight back, they end up suspended, because he’s the _class president _and his grades are perfect and so how could he do anything wrong? He’s jut _openly_ racist and misogenistic and he’s _awful _to his girlfriends._Everyone_ has complained to the teachers about him but they never fucking believe us.” Julia let out a breath and leaned back on her bed. “Anyway. Lately it’s getting worse. He rolled over a guy’s foot in the parking lot—he claims it was an accident, but the guy had just gotten onto the varsity football team, and Kalen hadn’t. And when the guy was benched for the season, guess who got his spot?”

“Jesus,” Magnus said.

“Yep.”

“So you’re taking him on? That seems like it could be dangerous.” It was also very cool, but fuck, he didn’t want her to get hit by a car. 

“Maybe. And even if I win, he’ll still be a bully. But someone has to stand up to him, show him that he can’t just get whatever he wants. And no one else was doing anything, so.”

“Hey Julia?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s fucking amazing.”

Julia beamed and looked at her knees. “Thank you. I’m just just trying to do the right thing.”

“Jesus,” Magnus said again. “Well, I’m glad I can help, at least a bit.”

“You’re helping a lot,” Julia said, and this time when she smiled, she met his eyes.

They sat there quietly for a few minutes, Magnus drawing and Julia watching him draw and Magnus watching her watch him. He was aware that he’d gone a little pink, but in his defence, it was pretty warm in the room.

Finally, Julia said, "Do you mind if I put on some music?"

"No, go for it. What do you have?"

“Anything that’s on YouTube!” Julia stood up and crossed to the desk. She reached behind Magnus to open a laptop. Her bare shoulder was inches from his face. His breath caught, but he tried to play it cool. “You said you like music,” she said, and if there was an odd note in her voice, Magnus didn’t comment on it. “Do you like musicals?”

“Sort of,” he said. “I grew up on them. Just the really old ones, though.”

“Which one’s your favorite?

“_Man of La Mancha_,” Magnus said immediately.

“Oh, so when you said old, you meant _old_.”

“Yeah. What’d you think I was talking about?”

“I don’t know, like _Cats_ or something.”

Magnus blinked at her. “I’m more of a dog person.”

She giggled and settled back down on the bed, laptop in her lap.

“So, you know it then ?”

Julia grinned and dropped her voice comically low. “_To dream the impossible dream_,” she sang, pressing a fist to her heart and looking dramatically off towards the ceiling. “_To fight the unbeatable foe._”

Magnus snorted. “Yeah, exactly. I was obsessed with that song as a kid. I wanted to be just like Don Quixote.”

“But everyone thinks he’s crazy, Julia said. “Plus, he dies at the end.”

“Seven-year-old me missed some of those nuances. I just knew he was a cool knight guy, trying to help people. Who else was I supposed to identify with, Lancelot? He’s a dipshit.”

Julia laughed. “Fair point!”

“What’s your favorite musical?”

“Oh my God, it changes, like, monthly, but right now I’m obsessed with _Six_. It’s—not to sound like a hipster, but if you only know old musicals you probably haven’t heard of it.“

“You’re right, I haven’t. What’s it about?”

“It’s, okay, it’s a little weird, but the concept is—the wives of Henry the Eighth have, like, come back to life? And formed a 90s girl band where they sing about their lives.”

“That is —kind of a lot,” Magnus said cautiously.

“I know. But like, the songs are all bops. Plus, there’s something about the idea of these women who were only known for the guy they married and the way they died getting their own narratives that, like, kind of resonates with me. I don’t know.”

“It sounds cool,” said Magnus. “I’ll check it out.”

“Okay, so, you only ‘sort of’ like musicals, though? What else do you listen to?”

“Uh, lots of stuff. Do you know Flogging Molly?”

Julia winced.

“Yeah, I know the name’s shitty. Their music is good, though. It’s like—Celtic punk, I guess?”

Julia still seemed doubtful, but she handed him the laptop. “I’ll give it a shot.”

Magnus put on “Devil’s Dance Floor,” and Julia didn’t seem to hate it, at least. When it was over, Julia put on another song, and then he put on the next one. By this time, he’d done half a dozen little studies of her, and chosen one that he liked okay to do bigger and more nicely on the next page. Julia was nodding along to the music, and even though they weren’t talking, it didn’t feel awkward or forced. He could just hang out with her, and not need to be performing _Magnus!_ all the time. God, but he really liked her.

The sun had begun to sink behind her lavender curtains when he finally turned his drawing around for her to inspect. The sketch he’d chosen was of her looking into the distance, from when she’d been goofing around singing _Man of La Mancha_. He’d tried to make her look purposeful and strong, but hopeful at the same time. He’d done a kind of blocky shading that reminded him, at least, of those old Obama posters, and left a space at the bottom for a slogan.

“Holy shit,” Julia said. “You’re an incredible artist. You made me look so good!”

Magnus glanced away. “You already looked good,” he said. “I just tried to do you justice.”

She beamed.

“Do you—Do you know what you want to write here?”

“Not yet. I should check with my campaign manager.”

“Who’s your campaign manager?”

“Hurley. You met her at the tournament.”

Magnus looked blankly at her.

“The short one.”

“Ohhhh! Yeah, she was really good.”

“I’ll tell her you said so. She had slogan ideas. I’ll text her—and in the meantime, do you want some dinner?”

“Hell yeah! I’m starving!”

Hurley hadn’t texted Julia back by the time they were finished eating, so they decided to finish the poster later. Julia drove him the forty-five minutes back to Faerun. It was a lovely, cool night, so they kept windows down. Julia put on a pop station, and then, when it went to commercial, switched to an oldies station. She kept the volume low, so they could talk over it or sing along as the mood stuck them. They mostly talked, and the time passed far too quickly.

Magnus helped Julia navigate the twists and cul-de-sacs of his neighborhood, which were even more confusing at dark. And then, they were there.

“There’s my house,” Magnus said, pointing.

Julia pulled up in front of his door and put the car in park. Neither of them moved to get out.

“I had a really nice time today,” Julia said. “I hope we can do this again soon.”

“Yeah,” said Magnus. “Me too.”

The song on the radio ended, and a new one began. Magnus sort of recognized it—was that Elvis?

_Wise men say only fools rush in—_

“Hey Julia?”

“Yes?”

“Would you like to—I mean, I want—do you want to go out with me? Like, you know, boyfriend, girlfriend, that kind of thing?” Magnus winced. It was inelegant, but at least it was out now. The worst she could do was say no. Actually, the worst was so much worse than that, how had he ever convinced himself it was a good idea to—

“I’d love to,” said Julia, and she was beaming at him.

“Cool. Cool cool cool cool.” Was this real?

“I was actually gonna ask earlier, at amtguard, but I, uh, chickened out.”

Magnus laughed. “I don’t think you get to kick my ass like that and then call yourself a chicken.”

Julia smiled, lowered her eyes. His hand was on the console between the seat, and she covered it with hers. He looked at their hands, and then back at her face, the light in her eyes, the warm curve of her smile, her hair half-covering her left eye. He reached across, tucked her hair behind her ear. She looked up at him. They were so close now, he could have counted her eyelashes, traced every faint freckle across her nose.

“I would really like to kiss you now,” Magnus said.

“I thought you’d never ask,” said Julia.

Magnus let out a breathy laugh, and Julia laughed too, and they were still laughing when they kissed so their teeth knocked together and it was weird and awkward. Magnus ducked his chin, embarrassed, but Julia cupped a hand around his cheek and lifted his face back to hers and—

Kissing Julia—_really_ kissing her—was like kissing sunshine, warm and strong and joyful. His hand tangled in her hair. Her arms wound around his neck. He never ever wanted to do anything else for the rest of his life.

But humans do sometimes need to breathe. When they eventually broke apart, they stayed close, foreheads still touching. Her eyes were the most beautiful brown he’d ever seen, almost amber, and she was looking at him—at _him_—like she never wanted to let him go. How the fuck had he gotten this lucky?

Eventually, she said, “I have to go. The mountain roads can be dangerous after dark.”

“Text me when you get home?”

“I will. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Magnus watched her drive away, lips still tingling from the kiss, the refrain of the song still ringing in his ears.

He had kissed Julia Waxman. Julia Waxman had kissed him back.


	10. Chapter 10

The bell by the door tinkled as Barry stepped in. He was running early for class—the dancers were still in the studio—but he wasn’t the first one there. The twins were already dressed out in their t-shirts and trousers. Lup was sitting on the floor, doing homework. Taako was beside her, and his math textbook was open in front of him, but he was too busy trying to pretend he wasn’t watching the dancers to actually get any work done—or get a good view of the dancers, Barry thought. Angus was there too, on one of the overstuffed couches, pouring over a binder. The page he was looking at was all in Hebrew.

Barry moved to peer over his shoulder. “Hey, bud, what are you working on?”

Angus glanced up and then back down to the page. “The V’ahavta,” he said, a note of defeat in his voice.

“Oof. That’s the second hardest one.”

Angus looked up at Barry in terror. “There’s a harder one?”

“Yeah, the blessing after the Haftara absolutely kicked my ass. Sorry, my butt.”

“You can say ass in front of me, sir.”

“Great. Are you doing a Haftara portion? Cause if you’re not, then this is as hard as it gets.”

“No, I am.” Angus sighed. “I’ve already written my speech and everything. The Torah study parts are easy, and I know almost all the words, it’s just memorizing this chanting that’s hard.”

Barry moved to sit next to him. “Well, what if you didn’t memorize it?”

The look Angus shot him was one of abject panic. “I would die,” he said, very seriously.

“No, I mean—don’t memorize it, learn the trope. You’re good at languages, right?”

“I mean, I’m okay at them.”

“He’s fucking amazing at languages,” Taako said without looking up.

“Let me see your paper.”

Angus passed him the binder.

“Okay, see those little markings there, below the letters?”

”The—the vowels, sir?”

“No, next to the vowels. Like, see that little right angle doohickey?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s a tope mark. It tells you how you’re supposed to sing that word. Everything from the Torah has a specific trope. If you learn the marks, you won’t have to memorize anything, you can just read it.”

“Thanks, sir! That makes a lot of sense.”

“I can help you out more, if you want. I mean, I had to learn all this stuff too.”

“Maybe. I’m already doing Bar Mitzvah classes every week, and Hebrew school, so—”

“Don’t worry about it, then.”

Lup cleared her throat, and Angus and Barry both jumped. They’d all but forgotten they weren’t alone in the room. “Barry,” she said, “I didn’t know you were Jewish.”

Angus said, “Ma’am, his last name is Bluejeans.”

“Is that a Jewish name?”

Barry and Angus glanced at each other. Barry said, “Um, yeah.”

Lup threw her hands in the air. “Well, fuck me for not knowing, I guess.”

“No, it’s chill,” Barry said. “It’s one of those names Jews know are Jewish but non-Jews never guess.”

“Like Kaplan,” Angus added, “or Green.”

“Green’ll trick you, though. There are plenty of goyishe Greens.”

Angus nodded sagely. “It’s like a—a false cognate.”

“Good metaphor, kid,” Barry said, and held a fist out for Angus to bump.

Lup watched as he did, bemused. “So, if you’re Jewish, to become an adult, you have to learn tropes? Like, fucking, fake dating shit?”

Barry laughed. “No, it’s trope in the sense of, like, formula.”

“It’s also called cantillation,” Angus supplied.

Barry shot him a look. “Did you—did you already know everything I just told you?”

Angus shrugged. ”Sorry. I hadn’t considered learning the cantillation marks as a way to streamline memorization, though! So. You did help. And the V’ahavtah really is killing me.”

Barry strengthened his already-heavy accent. “It is our lot as Jews to suffer,” he said, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead and sending Angus into a cascade of giggles.

Lup snorted and shook her head, but she was smiling, too.

Barry was never going to be over the joy of making her laugh.

——

Magnus was running late. He rushed into the studio just as everyone else was getting up to start warm-ups. The dancers were filtering back into the lobby, but Magnus managed to get one of the changing rooms before they could snatch them all up. By the time he was changed, they were almost all gone, except that one boy about his age who was always hanging out in the lobby.

Magnus had never had a conversation with the boy, but the dance studio was a small enough community that he knew generally who he was. Here is what Magnus knew: Kravitz was the son of the two women who ran the studio, Raven and Istus, and he never let anyone look at his sketchbook. Today, though, his guard must have been down, because he didn’t hide it when Magnus stepped out of the changing room behind him. Magnus wasn’t trying to look, but well, it was right in front of him, and—

Two truths slammed into Magnus’s brain, one right after the other. The first was that Kravitz was a fucking _fantastic_ artist. He drew in pencil, and even though it was unfinished, Magnus could see that the lines and shading were fine and delicate and tiny. 

The second was that he was drawing Taako.

It was unmistakable—the lines of his face were too detailed to be anyone else. He was running in the drawing, just like he was in real life, and his braid flew out behind him, sinuous as water. It could have just been a study—Kravitz just drawing whatever was around him—but it was hard to imagine someone drawing a face in that level of detail if they hadn’t spent a bunch of time watching it. Magnus should know; he’d spent the weekend doing the same thing.

So. Kravitz was watching Taako.

Magnus had absolutely no idea what to do with this information.

——

Barry was struggling to pay attention to his lecture when his phone buzzed way too loudly on his desk. He snatched it up and peered at it from under the table. He had a text from Lup.

_Lup: Barold! Whatcha doin?_

Barry knew from experience that getting autocorrect to let you drop a g took at least three tries, so either Lup had typed “doin” three times or she’d gone into her phone settings and told it not to correct. Either way, it was a lot of work to appear casual, which was—well, it was adorable, wasn’t it?

_Barry: In class_

_Lup: :O texting in class?!?! Im shocked! What kind of nerd r u?_

_Barry: It’s just scientific ethics, it’s not important_

_Lup: Lol, what kind of ethics r u ignoring?_

Barry glanced up at the front of the class, where his professor was busy repeating last night’s reading almost word-for-word.

_Barry: The importance of not doing experiments on yourself. It is incredibly tedious; please distract me_

_Lup: Did u just text me a semicolon? Nerd cred remains intact. Anywho, I have a question_

_Barry: Hit me_

_Lup: Lol u wish. _

_Lup: Here it is: u too cool to come to a high school party?_

_Lup: Scratch that, ur for sure not. u too boring/busy to go to a high school party?_

_Barry: When?_

_Lup: Halloween, obvi!_

Barry didn’t even have to check his calendar. _I’m free. _

_Lup: Sick! Its 9-whenever at avi’s place. Picture: parents out of town, red solo cups, the whole teen movie cliche. _

_Lup: Oh and its a halloween party so come in costume. Wear something sexy ;)_

Blushing this easily was a curse. People were going to think that he _had_ done unethical experiments on himself—or worse, that he had a crush on Dr. Williams, who, while not a bad looking guy, was the single most boring human currently in existence. She doesn’t mean anything by it, he told himself.

_Barry: What are you dressing as?_

_Lup: Idk yet. Taako and I usually do a pair costume but he’s procrastinating. _

_Lup: We always go big tho so whatever it is itll rock_

_Barry: I have no doubt_

_Lup: Sick ok meet us at magnus’s place at like 8:30. Were walking over. Its kind of a long walk but it means we can all drink WOOOOOO_

_Barry: Sounds perfect! I’ll see u there _

He didn’t notice he hadn’t spelled “you” out until after he sent the text. She was really getting in his head.

———

“Lulu, come look at this.”

Lup put her phone aside and leaned over Taako’s bed. There wasn’t a lot of spare space in the room they shared, which generally wasn’t a problem—Lup and Taako had been living out of each other’s pockets since they were in second grade—and had the added benefit of allowing Lup to look at Taako’s phone without leaving the comfort of her own bed.

The image on Taako’s phone was a mildly distressing one: a cosplayer dressed in gray wizard robes, a tall, pointed hat, and a fake white beard—either Gandalf or Dumbledore, it was hard to tell—lounging on a park bench. There were slits in their robes up to the thigh, revealing fishnets and staggeringly tall heels.

“Holy fuck, that’s amazing,” she said.

“How bout that for a Halloween costume concept?”

“It’s genius for you. There’s no way I’m wearing a beard, though.”

“No, no, obvi you’d do something witchier. I was thinking, like—you know that witch from that old King Arthur movie? The Disney one?”

“_Sword in the Stone_?”

“Yeah, she turns into all those animals? Something like that, only with sexy legs.”

“You realize that slutty witch is like literally the _least _original Halloween costume, right?”

Taako sat up from where he’d been lounging. “You’re not understanding my _vision_, Lup! I’m talking full old age makeup, ratty gray hair, saggy boobs if we can figure out how to do that—”

“Gross,” Lup said.

“_Exactly!_ All that, plus fishnets and heels.Try and tell me that isn’t original.”

“Okay, fine,” Lup said, grudgingly. “It could be pretty cool. And we’ve still got some modeling putty left over from last year, so it won’t be too hard.” All year, Taako and Lup hoarded all the money they could get their hands on—from dog-sitting Fisher and gifts from relatives who felt that twenty bucks a year was a fair price to pay to not have to think about the twins the rest of the time—and then blew it all to make the best possible Halloween costumes. It was their _thing_. Still, starting with a few supplies didn’t hurt.

“Fuck. Yes.”

“Alright, let’s do it. The busses are still running for a few hours—should we start with Goodwill or Joanne?”

“Goodwill, don’t even trip!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the image Taako's basing their looks on: https://media1.popsugar-assets.com/files/thumbor/MmJb36UPvhaWPd6Qll-0E2QTWMY/fit-in/1024x1024/filters:format_auto-!!-:strip_icc-!!-/2015/10/19/808/n/1922398/21982688_tumblr_nwc6t7qW2V1rj4t1ko3_1280.jpg
> 
> Also, shout out to punkwildebeest - I had already written the scene of Barry texting Lup in class before you commented that you were reading my fic in class, but that synchronicity is amazing! (Do pay attention in class tho lol)
> 
> Also also, shout out to everyone who's commented/bookmarked/subscribed! The response to this fic has been better than I ever imagined, and you should know that each comment absolutely makes my day. Ily all


	11. Chapter 11

When Barry knocked on Magnus’s door at 8:25 that night, Lup was the one who opened it. Her face took him by surprise for a moment - it was lined and creased, and she had jowls that she surely hadn’t had last Wednesday. Then he saw that the wrinkled were drawn on with eyeliner pencil, and the foundation on those jowls hadn’t been fully blended yet, revealing them as special effects make up putty. She wore a black shirt, a bright pink skirt with spiderweb appliqués, a wig cap, and a huge grin. 

“Barold!” she said, half greeting him, half announcing him to the house’s other inhabitants. “What the fuck are you supposed to be?”

Barry glanced down at his own costume—heavy denim overalls over a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He tucked the wide metal bowl he was carrying more securely under his arm and straightened his old-fashioned hat. “I’m Levi Strauss,” he said. 

“The gold miner guy who invented jeans?” 

“The one and only!”

Lup gave him an approving nod. “Well, I did tell you to dress sexy. Come on in! The boys are fighting.”

Barry followed her into the living room, where Taako and Magnus were indeed mid-argument. Or at least Taako was - Magnus looked distinctly unbothered. He was sprawled on the couch in a bear onesie. Taako was standing over him in a gray bathrobe and wizard hat, looking frantic. 

“—_can’t go like that!_” He was saying. 

“Why not?” Magnus asked. “Hey, Barold!” 

“Hey, Magnus.”

Lup said, “Does anyone know where I left my crinoline?”

“Magnus’s room,” Taako said. “Magnus, people are going to think you’re a furry!”

“What’s that?” Magnus asked, all innocence. 

Lup snorted and ducked out of the room. 

Taako, on the other hand, went seven different shades of red. “I—you—“ He spluttered, and then said, “I’m going to go put on my beard.” He followed Lup out of the living room. 

Barry sat down on the couch next to Magnus. Carefully, he began, “Do—do you—“

“I know what a furry is,” Magnus said. “Obviously. But did you see the look on Taako’s face?”

Barry laughed. “It was pretty good. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him blush before.”

“Taako says a lot of outrageous shit, but he can’t take it when other people do it. It’s the greatest weapon in my arsenal.” 

Lup came crashing back into the room, now with a crinoline making her skirt poof out and a ratty gray wig on her head. In one hand, she carried a small black purse, and in the other, a pair of impossibly high heels. “Everyone ready to go?” She asked. 

“_We’ve_ been ready for ages,” Magnus said. “We’re just waiting for Taako.”

“Aren’t we always?” Lup sat down sideways in an armchair, draping her legs over the arm. 

“Everyone hold on to your asses,” came Taako’s voice from another room, “because I look _phenomenal._”

Barry wasn’t sure if he was supposed to respond somehow. The other two didn’t -Lup was shaking her head, and Magnus was grinning hugely, but neither of them quipped back. 

Finally, Taako presented himself in the doorway of the living room. The wig and beard he’d donned _were_, honestly, pretty amazing, neat and blindingly white and reaching to his stomach. Magnus and Barry applauded as Taako struck a couple poses. 

Lup was less impressed. “Are you walking all the way to Avi’s in those heels?”

“Yeah,” said Taako, like it was obvious. 

Lup sighed. “Whatever. Let’s go!”

It was early enough in the evening that there were still little kids in costumes running from door to door, so while the half-hour walk to Avi’s house was long, it wasn’t dull. As they walked, Taako asked Lup, “Does Barry need to know about our ruse?”

“I don’t know that he _needs_ to, but—”

“Well fuck, guys, you’ve got to tell me now!” Barry said.

“Oh my God, Taako.” Lup groaned. “It’s not that I mind telling you, Barold, but my brother will not think before he speaks.”

Taako, for his part, looked smug. “Basically,” he said, “we don’t have permission to be at this party.”

Lup said, “We have permission to be sleeping over at Magnus’s, but if our grandfather knew we were somewhere with alcohol, we’d be dead.”

“Honestly, if he knew we were having any fun, we’d be dead. He thinks dressing up is for little kids. We did this shit,” Taako gestured to his robe and tights, “in secret.”

“So! We are at this party under false pretenses. Although, probably half the kids here are. Nobody wants their precious teens tipsy.”

“Yeah, but other kids only have to lie about the booze, not the existence of the party. I just wanted to tell you,” he said, flashing a wicked grin at Barry, “so you know what terrible hooligans we are.”

Barry blushed, because of who he was as a person, but he also laughed. He knew Taako well enough by now to be able to tell that he was proud of getting around the rules. “I’m proud to know you,” he said, hitting Taako lightly on the shoulder.

Taako pretended to be in pain, grasping at his arm “You can’t do that, man, I’m a squishy wizard!”

The four of them laughed and joked their way through the walk to Avi’s house. The half hour felt like it passed in only minutes. Finally, they stopped at a big white house covered in Halloween decorations. The porch light had been replaced with a purple bulb, and the yard was full of styrofoam grave stones. Thumping bass spilled out the open windows, and above it—was that an electric violin?

Lup stopped just before the front walk. “Hang on, I’ve gotta change my shoes. Bar, can I lean on you?”

“Uh, sure.” _Bar_? That was new. 

Lup grabbed hold of his upper arm to steady herself as she slipped off her flats. “Jesus fuck the sidewalk is cold.”

“That’s why I wore my heels here,” Taako said. 

“Uh huh. And how are your ankles feeling?”

Taako didn’t answer. 

“Okay, party people, let’s go!”

Lup, Taako, and Magnus pushed through the front door without knocking, which Barry thought was kind of rude. Inside, the house was a mass of teenagers holding plastic cups, dancing or piled on couches. It was every bit the teen movie cliche Lup had described, although everyone seemed to have their clothes on at the moment. The band surprised him, though—first by how well it was banging out this cover of _Werewolves of London_, and then by how the lead singer-slash-violinist was dressed. The boy had hair like a scene kid from when Barry was in middle school, with bangs flattened in front of one eye, but he was wearing some kind of jester or minstrel costume in bright, primary colors, complete with puffy shorts, shoes with curled toes, and a hat with three stuffed prongs. 

Barry leaned over to Magnus. “What the fuck?” he asked, indicating the boy.

“Oh, that’s just Johann. HI JOHANN!”

The boy looked up and waved briefly before going back to his song.

Barry didn’t feel that his question had been adequately answered, but before he could say anything else, another guy came up to them. He was probably Magnus’s age, with a soul patch that was about three quarters of the way grown in. “Hey, guys!” he said. 

“Avi!” Magnus fist bumped him.

“Who’s this?” Avi asked, gesturing to Barry.

“Our friend Barold,” Lup said. “He’s in _college!_”

“Sick,” said Avi. “If ya’ll want beer, there’s a keg over there. I’ll—” There was a tremendous crashing sound from deeper in the house, and Avi glanced over his shoulder. “Sorry, guys, gotta go deal with that.” And he disappeared back into the crowd.

The four of them pushed toward the keg, with Magnus in the lead. Magnus, Lup, and Barry all poured themselves cups, but Taako sniffed Lup’s beer and made a face. “That’s swill,” he told them all. “I’m going to see if I can find the brandy.” And he, too, took off into the crowd.

“Don’t get lost,” Lup called after him.

The three of them that remained hovered at the edge of the crowd, sipping their admittedly terrible beers. Magnus pulled out his phone and started texting someone. The band finished _Werewolves of London_ to decent applause and began _Don’t Fear the Reaper_.

After a while, Magnus looked up from his phone. “Where’s Taako?” he asked.

“It seems like we lost him,” said Lup, pointing. Taako was leaning against a wall, talking to a tall boy in a grim reaper costume. It took a moment for Barry to recognize the boy as the dancer-slash-artist who hung out at their studio.

“Taako has a crush on him,” Lup told them conspiratorially. “He won’t admit it, but he’s been fucking pining.”

“Kravitz likes him back,” Magnus said, and both Lup and Barry turned to him, surprised. “Well, I mean, not definitely. But probably. He’s been drawing him for sure.”

“Fuck,” said Lup. “We have to get them together!”

Barry asked, “Are you sure we should be pressuring them? Like, what if they’re not both out?”

“Taako’s been out since he was like five, and Kravitz has gay moms. We should absolutely be pressuring them.”

Magnus seemed thoughtful. “Well, maybe not pressuring them. Encouraging? Gently nudging?”

Lup looked like she was about to say something snappish, but then Johann launched into an oddly reggae-sounding cover of _The Monster Mash_, and she lit up. “Come on, boys, let’s dance!”

_Oh,_ thought Barry, _let’s maybe not._

Magnus made to follow her to the dance floor, but Barry said, “Hold on a sec.” He took a tremendous swing of beer and grimaced. “God, that’s noxious,” he said, and drained the rest of the cup. 

Lup and Magnus were watching him with amusement. “Can you not dance sober?” Lup asked. 

“I can’t dance at all. But if I’m tipsy I’ll pretend.”

Lup snorted. “Okay, dorkus. You set now?”

“Yeah.” Barry was far from smashed, but he could do this. Probably. 

He followed Lup and Magnus to where the dining room table had been shoved aside to clear a dance floor. The three of them ended up in a little triangle. Magnus and Lup stated dancing immediately, but Barry just kind of swayed from side to side. He never knew how to act in moments like this, where his arms were supposed to go, what kind of expression he should have on his face. He was definitely still too sober for this.

Lup noticed. “You don’t look like you’re having fun,” she said, barely audible over the music. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing!”

“Neither does anyone else! Look around!”

Barry did, and he had to admit she was right—nobody here had particularly excellent moves. Still, they all looked like _they_ thought they were doing well. He didn’t have that kind of confidence.

“Just mirror my movements!” Lup said. She was kind of shimmying her shoulders and stepping from side to side, so he did that too. “There you go!”

He flashed her an anxious smile. 

“Oh, don’t worry, nobody’s looking at you.”

This wasn’t quite true—_she_ was looking at him, and she was the main person he didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of. But she’d seen him cry already, so that ship had probably sailed. 

The three of them danced the rest of the song, and Barry’s anxiety started to ebb, just a little. Then, just as it was ending, Avi called Magnus’s name from the edge of the dance floor. 

“I’ll be back,” Magnus told them, and pushed his way off the floor as the band started playing _Ghostbusters_. 

Lup blew Magnus a kiss and jumped into the song immediately. It took Barry a moment to adjust to the new rhythm, but he managed it. Moments after _that,_ he realized that with Magnus gone, and with himself mirroring Lup’s movements, he was sort of, technically, maybe dancing with her. Which was terrifying. And also kind of amazing. He wasn’t going to call attention to it, but if she wasn’t bothered by it, he wasn’t going to stop, either. They weren’t touching or anything, so probably he was overreacting. He should just focus on not stepping on anyone’s feet.

Astonishingly, he managed to dance through several songs without causing himself or anyone else any injury. He even did _The Time Warp_ with the rest of them, pelvic thrusts and all, without dying from embarrassment. And he was having fun. It happened quite by accident, and so slowly he nearly didn’t notice, but dancing with Lup, well, it was a good time. She was so obviously enjoying herself, it was hard not to pick up on it. 

But then, as Johann and the band played a pitched-down version of _Disturbia_, Lup started getting closer to him. At first, he thought it was an accident, and he backed up to give her space, but she said, “Oh, come on! Dance with me!” And, well, he couldn’t exactly say no, could he?

Lup was singing along and grinning up at him like she was singing _to him_. She wasn’t quite grinding on him, but it seemed like she was heading in that direction. _It’s nothing personal,_ he reminded himself. _She’s just theatrical like this_. But he was finding it hard to breathe. Was the air getting thinner in here?

“Don’t be a lump!” Lup told him. “Dance!”

Barry realized belatedly that he’d just been standing there. He tried to match her movements again. She grabbed his hand and spun herself under his arm, because he wasn’t helping much. Finally, his brain switched back on, and he spun her again, this time with some agency. 

“There you go!” She called over the music. 

And so they danced. Actually, unambiguously together. He even managed to dip her as the song ended, leaning with her to make sure he wouldn’t drop her. Both of them were breathing hard. Her nose was inches from him. 

“Bar,” she said, and he could hear his heart pounding in his ears. “Are you okay? You’re really red.”

“Uh—uh, yeah, I just need some water. And maybe some air. I’ll find you in a minute, okay?” And feeling aimlessly disappointed and frustrated, Barry left Lup on the dance floor. 

——

After Barry left, Lup found herself another cup of the terrible beer, and then hunted Magnus down. He was on a couch in the living room, gazing forlornly at his phone. She sat down on the couch next to Magnus and put her chin on his shoulder. “Are you moping?”

“I’m not moping,” Magnus said, and sighed. “I just wish she was here. Look.”

Magnus handed Lup his phone, which was displaying a selfie of Julia and her two teammates from the bout. They’d done a group costume—the short one was clearly Sally from _Nightmare Before Christmas, _with blue pained skin and seams drawn across her face, the tall one was Coraline, complte with yellow raincoat, and Julia was the Corpse Bride. She’d drawn a little worm coming out of her cheek, which Lup thought was clever. 

“I like her maggot,” Lup said, handing the phone back. 

“Yeah.”

“Hey!” Lup nudged him with her shoulder. “Buck up, buckaroo. You can invite her next year!”

“But you guys won’t be here next year. It won’t be the same.”

“Fuck. You’re right. I hadn’t even thought about that.”

“You and Taako are going to be at some super cool college party in fucking Neverwinter or Goldcliff or somewhere.”

“Let’s not count chickens. We don’t have any acceptances yet. We might still be here, working as greeters in the Fantasy Costco.”

“Even if you don’t get in anywhere, you’re leaving this town,” Magnus said firmly. “I’ll drive you out of here myself if I have to.”

Lup snorted. “With what license?”

“I’ll get one! I’m practicing! I won’t fail that bullshit test again.”

“Uh huh.” Lup was quiet for a moment, and then said, “You wanna hear something _really_ wild?”

“What?”

“Next year, Mavis’ll be at this party.”

“Oh Jesus, she will. How is that possible?”

“You’ve gotta watch out for her.” Lup’s words were beginning to slur.

“It’s not a dangerous party.”

“You never know,” she said. “I don’t like the look of some of these freshmen. You see that boy? I don’t like the way his jib is cut.”

The boy, who was apparently in earshot, looked up, startled. “I’m a sophomore,” he said.

Lup narrowed her eyes at him. “Stop bothering us, Freshman.”

“O-okay?” The boy got up and left. 

Lup dissolved into giggles, and Magnus laughed, too. 

Barry appeared, forcing his way through the crowd. He was very pink, although to be fair, pink seemed to be his default state. “There you guys are!” he said, a bit too loudly.

“In the flesh,” Lup said. She was about to suggest that they all go dance again when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and read the text, and her stomach dropped out from under her. She suddenly felt very sober. “We have to leave,” she said.

“_What_?” said Magnus.

She handed him her phone. He stared at it for a moment, and then said, “Fuck.”


	12. Chapter 12

Taako elbowed his way through the crowd, exchanging required greetings with classmates. Lots of people thought his beard was excellent (as they should), and so he was forced to come up with compliments for them, too. Well, it wasn’t always a hardship. There was one glittery jellyfish costume that was genuinely excellent. 

In the kitchen, someone else had already broken into the good booze. There was still half a bottle of brandy, though, and Taako poured a healthy amount into his plastic cup. “Classy,” he said, but nobody was paying attention, so nobody laughed. 

He made his way back out of the kitchen and into the overflowing dining room, inching around the dance floor. Johann and his band had struck up _Don’t Fear the Reaper_, and people were doing their best to slow dance to it. 

When he got back to the group, Lup was going to make him dance with her. Not that he minded - he liked dancing, and he liked dancing with Lup - but the whole thing was something of a ritual now. They’d been going to Avi’s parties since they were in seventh grade and the whole thing was sprite and spin the bottle, and Taako always pretended to not want to dance with his sister, and they always danced anyway. Even last year, when he was with his shitty ex, they’d danced, although Sazed had sulked the whole time. In hindsight, that should have been a sign. 

Taako was so busy considering how deeply awful that relationship had been that he didn’t notice the elbow coming his way until it hit him in the chest. His nice brandy sloshed out of his cup, soaking his heels. 

“What the fuck,” he snapped, looking up at the elbow’s owner. “Hey, thug, you better watch where the hell you’re going or I’m gonna—“

Taako’s stomach dropped out from under him. He was looking up at the most handsome face he’d ever seen—a very familiar handsome face, under all that white skull makeup. Kravitz was wearing a long black cloak and holding a clearly plastic scythe, and he looked absolutely mortified. 

“I’m so, so sorry!” he said. “Let me—get you some paper towels? Would that help?” 

“Uh, no, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it, my dude.”

“Are you sure? Jesus, are you okay? I swear I didn’t know you were there.”

Taako rubbed his collarbone, which did kind of hurt. “No, I mean, you got me good! It’s cool, though. And hey, if it turns out to be fatal, at least I’ll have good company on the way to the afterlife.”

Kravitz blinked at him. 

“The costume?”

“Oh, right! Ha!”

It was not a very convincing laugh. This conversation wasn’t going the way Taako had imagined. Not that he’d imagined talking to Kravitz, but you know. 

Back to basics. “I’m Taako,” he said. 

“I know,” Kravitz said, and immediately looked horrified. “I mean, you’re one of the fencers, right? I’ve seen you around.”

“Yeah, and you dance. But you don’t go to school with us—what are you doing _here?_”

“I’m friends with Avi,” Kravitz said. “His mom knows my moms, so.”

“Cool.” And the conversation was gone again. Taako felt like his brain was shorting out. He was usually funny. Why wasn’t he being funny? “So, what made you want to be a portent of doom this All Hallow’s Eve?”

Kravitz snorted, this time for real, and Taako felt the world slide back into place. “To be honest?” Kravitz said. “I actually already owned all this stuff.” He spread his arms to Taako could see the full outfit under his cloak—a red vest patterned with black skulls over a white shirt with huge sleeves, a necklace with a silver bird skull pendant (lots of skulls on this guy), and black jeans. “Avi invited me last-minute, so I had to scrape something together.”

“That’s dope, man! Are you, like, goth or something?”

“I guess kind of? I don’t usually wear it all together.”

“You should,” Taako said. “You look cool as hell.”

He wasn’t actually joking about that, but Kravitz laughed anyway, ducking his head. “So,” he said, “you’re a shitty wizard?”

“I am an _excellent _wizard, thank you very much! My power comes from the sunlight on my legs.”

“Oh, so the fishnets are a necessity.”

“Precisely.”

“And that’s why your legs are so tan?”

Taako spluttered, half-choking on his brandy. His legs, he knew, were fish-belly pale. When he looked up, Kravitz was grinning at him, a mischievous smile that seemed almost out of place on his serene features. Taako couldn’t not smile back.

And after that it was easy. They talked and joked as songs began and ended behind them. Taako got sick of pushing back his hat to look at Kravitz, so he set it on the end table beside them. Time slipped away, until Taako lifted his cup to his lips, and was disappointed to discover that it was empty. 

“Do you—can I get you another drink?” Kravitz asked. 

“Sure thing, homie._”_

“Okay! Just—don’t go anywhere.”

Kravitz pushed away through the throng of teens. Only once he was out of sight did Taako let himself sigh. Fuck but Kravitz was cute. This was potentially a problem. 

Someone grabbed Taako’s arm, and he jumped. “Lup, what the hell?”

“We have to leave,” Lup said, and even over the music Taako could hear the seriousness in her voice. 

“Lup, a cute boy is getting me a drink! I can’t go now!”

“Have you checked your phone?”

Taako shook his head.

“Grandpa just texted. He decided we can’t stay with Magnus. He’s picking us up on his way home from work—and he _just left work.”_

“Oh fuck.” Taako did some rapid math in his head, and then looked at Lup, eyes huge. “We don’t have enough time.”

“We might if we book it. Halloween traffic and all.”

“Jesus. Fuck. Okay, let’s go.”

———— 

Barry and Magnus were waiting for the twins just outside of the door. The air had turned cold, and a drizzle, too light for umbrellas but still uncomfortable, fell on their shoulders. Lup breezed right past them, with Taako on her heels, and Barry and Magnus had to hurry to catch up. None of them said anything. 

Two blocks from Avi’s house, Lup fished her flats out of her purse, swapping them for her heels while she walked. Barry noticed that she didn’t ask to lean on him—she didn’t need to lean on anyone. Maybe she hadn’t before, either. This seemed significant, but Barry didn’t know what it could mean. 

A block after that, Taako gave up on his own shoes entirely, kicking them off down the sidewalk and scrambling to pick them up. 

“You’re going to wear holes in the feet of your tights,” Lup said. 

“Who gives a fuck?” Taako snapped. He ripped the wig from his head, and cursed again. “I left my stupid fucking hat at Avi’s. Don’t say anything, Lup, I know I can’t go back for it. It just sucks.”

“It does.” Lup slid her arm around her brother’s shoulders, and he hooked his around her waist. She bent and said something that Barry, walking a few paces behind, couldn’t catch. Taako nodded.

Magnus let out a tremendous sigh. “I hate their grandpa,” he confided. “This isn’t the first time he’s pulled something like this.” 

“What’s his deal?” Barry asked. 

“Nobody knows for sure. Lup and Taako were tossed between a few relatives when they were kids, and he eventually took them in, but it doesn’t seem like he wanted to. Mostly he ignores them, and it’s fine. But sometimes…” Magnus spread his hands to indicate their whole situation. 

“That’s awful.”

“Yup. We’re all just holding our breath until they turn eighteen and graduate and get out of here.”

Barry, who _was_ eighteen, and who had seen high school friends deal with similar situations, wasn’t sure it was going to be that simple. Brad was almost nineteen now, and he _still_ wasn’t out to his parents, because if they reacted badly he wouldn’t be able to pay for college—and because, for some reason, he cared what they thought of him. 

Barry didn’t tell Magnus any of this. There was no reason to dampen his hopes. 

“Sometimes,” Magnus was saying, “I just want to go on there and bash the old fucker’s head in. But the twins keep telling me it wouldn’t help. So.”

Barry made a sound that was half laugh, half sigh. “Yeah, I feel that.” He looked ahead to where the two of them were walking with their arms linked. For a second he thought something had gone deeply wrong with Lup’s face, but then he realized she was peeling off her prosthetic makeup. It was a gruesome sight, somehow more unsettling for its bloodlessness. 

Lup glances over her shoulder, saw Barry’s expression, and laughed for the first time since she’d gotten the text from her grandfather. “Sick, right?” she said, and Barry wasn’t sure if she meant sick as in gross or sick as in awesome. 

Either way, it was true. “Right!”

As they powerwalked down the damp streets, Magnus, Lup, and Taako made a plan of action for when they got to Magnus’s house—how to change clothes most efficiently, how to get rid of the smell of alcohol. They’d bush their teeth as fast as possible. Lup had brought perfume; Taako would use Magnus’s aftershave. It all sounded distressingly like something they’d done before. They were almost to their destination when Barry asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

The twins glanced at each other. “You can leave,” Lup said, and when Barry flushed amended, “It’s just, since Grandpa doesn’t know you, explaining your presence could make things harder. Are you sober enough to drive?”

“I think so.” He’d only had the one drink, more than an hour and a half ago now, and the walk in the cold air had cleared his head considerably. 

“Good.”

They were at Magnus’s now. Magnus unlocked the door, and he and Taako darted inside immediately, but Lup lingered on the porch with Barry. 

“How much time do you have?” he asked her.

“Like ten more minutes. We’ll be fine. We’ve done it before.”

“That sucks.”

“It’s not great. But, um. For what it’s worth, I had fun tonight. Well, as much of tonight as we got, anyway.”

“Yeah, me too. Thanks for getting me to dance.”

“Thanks for being such a good sport about it.” Lup paused, and then said, “Text me that you’re home safe?”

“I will,” Barry promised. “You too, okay?”

“Yeah.” 

Lup hesitated, rocking on her feet for a moment, before stepping forward and hugging Barry around the neck. He hugged her back, and they stood there, just for a moment. Then she let go and said, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Lup turned and hurried into the house, and Barry got into his car, and drove out into the night. 

———— 

It took Kravitz what felt like an age to get to the kitchen. He split the last of the bottle of brandy between his and Taako’s cups—he hoped Avi wouldn’t get in trouble over the missing booze, but that ship had long since sailed, so he didn’t feel too bad about finishing it off. He headed back to the dining room, where Taako was waiting for him (_Taako _was waiting _for him_—had he stepped into some parallel universe?). 

Kravitz had to remind himself not to look giddy as he made his way back to the end table he and Taako had been talking over, but he couldn’t stop himself from grinning—a grin that slid from his face when he realized that Taako wasn’t there. He looked around the room, trying to see if Taako had just been pulled into a nearby conversation, or onto the dance floor. But no, Taako wasn’t anywhere in sight. His big gray wizard hat was still on the table, but he was just—gone. 

Which, okay. That stung. It wasn’t like Kravitz had thought they were, like, connecting deeply or something, but they’d been having fun. Probably. Had Taako just pretended to want a drink to give him the slip? If so, he wasn’t nearly as cool as Kravitz had thought he was. 

Kravitz fully intended to leave it at that, but he found himself wandering through the party, Taako’s hat in his hands, scanning the faces in the crowd. He told himself he was just returning the hat. Being a bro. Nothing more than that. But soon it became apparent that Taako wasn’t _anywhere_. He wasn’t tucked into a couch in the living room, or in line for the bathroom, or smoking in the back yard. He could have been in one of the bedrooms upstairs—Kravitz hadn’t had the courage to check—but barring that, he seemed to have simply disappeared. 

Eventually, Kravitz _did_ find Avi, just next to where the band was playing. “Have you seen Taako?” he asked, shouting to be heard over the music. 

Avi squinted at him. He was a little unsteady on his feet. “I think he left.”

“He _left?_”

“Yeah, man. Magnus said they had to go. Some emergency or something?”

And just like that, Kravitz’s melancholy was replaced with fear. “What kind of emergency?”

“I dunno, man, you’d have to ask him. Hey, it’s cool that you two’re friends! I didn’t know you knew him.”

Kravitz looked down at the hat in his hands. “I’m not entirely certain I do.”


	13. Chapter 13

After school that Monday, Julia came and picked Magnus up, and they went to Staples to get the posters printed. They’d turned out pretty alright, in Magnus’s opinion. He’d cleaned them up over the weekend, while facetimeing a deeply (and understandably) grouchy Taako. Julia seemed to like them, which was cool. Also, Julia was cool. And his girlfriend. He felt like he was re-remembering that fact from moment to moment, now that they were together again. It never got any less amazing. 

Julia was driving, now, and he was in the passenger seat. They were headed back to Raven’s Roost to hang the posters at her school. Hurley and Sloane were going to help them. It was not a date, but it was the first time he’d seen Julia since they’d kissed, and he was buzzing with the nearness of her. 

She had the windows down, autumn air roaring in as they wound along the mountain roads. The radio was on full blast so they could hear it over the wind, and Julia was singing along. Magnus drummed on the dashboard, nodding with the music. At a stoplight, she turned and flashed him a grin, and he grinned back, caught up in her joy. His heart was louder than the bass, louder than the wind. 

The school, like all schools after hours, was a little eerie. Not scary, but incorrect—it was supposed to be full. Instead, their footsteps echoed loudly in the empty hallway. Julia held his hand, which was a normal thing for her to do, because she was his girlfriend. What the fuck. 

They carried the posters to an unlocked classroom, where the two girls were sitting on a desk. When she saw them, the shorter one—Hurley, Magnus remembered—jumped to the floor. 

“There you two are!” she said. “We’ve been camped out here for ages!” 

“Yeah, I’m sure you were miserable,” Julia said dryly, shoving an armful of posters at her. “Is that black lipstick on your collar?”

“Fuck off,” said Hurley, while the other girl, Sloane, threw her head back and laughed, kicking her feet in the air. 

In plain clothes, the two were a study in contrasts—tiny Hurley, with her butch haircut, pink polo, and khakis, and tall Sloane, with her waist-length black hair, torn skinny jeans, and leather jacket. Sloane had on a full face of high-drama makeup; Hurley didn’t seem to be wearing any (minus the black smudge on her collar). But they shared an intensity that, even after meeting them briefly, Magnus could tell made them more alike than different. 

And now that intensity was being turned on him. Hurley swaggered over to him, face tilted up to look him in the eye. “So,” she said, “you’re the boyfriend.”

“I am,” Magnus said, feeling oddly interrogated. 

Hurley crossed her arms. “What are your intentions toward our daughter?” she asked. 

Magnus blinked.

“I’m six months older than you,” Julia said. She set the rest of her posters down on a desk and sat on the one beside it. She did not look like she was going to help him.

From behind Hurley, Sloane echoed, “Our sweet baby daughter.”

Magnus looked from one to the other. They seemed to be serious—about wanting an answer, if not about being Julia’s moms. “Um,” he said. “I, uh, I think she’s really cool? And I want to hang out with her?”

“And?” Hurley took a step closer.

“And?” Magnus heard his voice crack.

“Are you gonna make an honest woman out of her?” 

“Um?”

Julia covered her face with her hands. It was hard to tell if she was embarrassed or laughing. 

Sloane slid off the desk and went to stand beside Hurley. She was almost as tall as him, Magnus realized. Something about the way she’d done her eyeliner gave her face a birdlike quality. “If you hurt her,” she said, “you’ll live to regret it.”

“But not for very long,” Hurley added.

“_Um?_” Magnus had not previously known his voice could go that high.

“Guys, you’re scaring him,” Julia said, from somewhere behind the wall of Intimidating Girl.

“We should be,” Hurley said, and winked.

The wink pushed Sloane over the edge, and she broke into giggles. Hurley followed, holding Sloane’s arm for support as she doubled over with laughter. 

Magnus’s heart rate began to return to normal. “You were kidding,” he said.

When Sloane recovered, she said, casually, “Mostly. If you hurt her, we _will_ fuck you up.”

“But we trust her judgement,” Hurley said. “Come on, boyfriend. This is a strategy meeting!”

“Yeah,” Julia said, “come on, boyfriend.” There was warmth in her voice that was missing from Hurley’s. 

Magnus sat on the desk beside hers. “I can’t believe you didn’t rescue me,” he said. 

“With some people, it’s best to just jump in the deep end right away.”

Sloane stuck out her tongue at Julia. 

Magnus, thinking of Taako and Lup, nodded.

“Okay!” said Julia. “I officially call this meeting of the Rebellion to order. We’ve got a dipshit to depose, and bullying my boyfriend isn’t going to help with that.”

“It might,” said Hurley. 

Julia ignored her. “These posters will go a long way towards visibility. People need to know that Kalen has a challenger. Plus they look cool as fuck—thanks babe.” She held out a fist, which Magnus bumped. 

“Now for targeted campaigning. Hurley, you were talking to the jocks?”

Hurley sat up straighter, suddenly all business. “All the girl jocks are on your side, except the ones who are dating boy jocks. The boy jocks are mostly a lost cause, ‘cause he’s one of them. There are some chill dudes on, like, the tennis team and track and field who I can maybe convince, though.”

“Sick. And Sloane? Your crowd?”

“Well, none of them are voting for Kalen. The hard part is going to be getting them to vote at all. I’ll do what I can.”

Magnus said, “Sorry, Sloane, but, um, what is your crowd?”

“Amorphous. There aren’t enough people in this podunk town to have separate groups for, like, punks and goths and shit, so we all just kind of hang out together. Some of them are cooler than others. And a lot of them think the whole student government thing is bullshit.”

“It _is_ bullshit, right now. We’re trying to make it _not_ bullshit.”

Sloane raised her hands. “Hey, you don’t have to convince me. _I’m _going to have to convince them.”

“Sorry,” said Julia.

“It’s chill.”

“Okay. Theater kids are on lock, obvi, after what he did to our sets last year. But the rest of the school…I don’t know.” 

Hurley said, “A lot of people without affiliations are going to vote for him, because he might maybe decide he likes them and make them popular. And all the—what the fuck are they, preppy sounds so eighties—”

“Boring people,” Sloane supplied.

“Yeah, the boring people. The ones he hangs out with. They’re his, too.”

“That still leaves some people I can try to sway in the debates on Wednesday. Band kids, art kids…” Julia turned to look at Magnus. “Hey,” she said, “you’re an art kid. What do they want?”

“Funding,” Magnus said immediately. “I don’t know about this school, but the art supplies at Faerun High are depressing at best.”

Julia said, “No, it’s bad here too.”

“Everyone wants funding, though,” Hurley said. “Have you seen the condition the track is in?”

“We haven’t gotten new machines in Shop in like a decade,” Sloane added. “The only extracurriculars the school funds are football, and like, maybe basketball.”

“Guys,” said Julia, a grin spreading across her face, “guess what teams Kalen plays on?”

“Fuck yeah!” said Hurley, reaching over to high five Julia.

“You’re going after the football team’s funding?” asked Magnus.

“Yeah. It’s not like the team, or the people who care about them, were going to vote for me anyway. Why bother with them?”

“Dude, if you win, can you lobby for, like, water fountains that work?” asked Hurley.

“Fuck yeah. What do y’all want?”

“Gender neutral bathrooms?” suggested Sloane.

“Cafeteria food that’s edible!

“A less shitty dress code!”

“No dress code!”

“No clothes!” Hurley punched the air. “No clothes! No clothes! No clothes!”

“No clothes!” Magnus joined in the chant. 

“NO CLOTHES! NO CLOTHES!_ NO CLOTHES_!”

“Oh God,” Sloane said. “There’s two of them.”

“But actually,” Magnus said, dropping the chant, “this is, like, a really good idea. You should do this with everybody.”

“What, chant about nudity?”

“No! Well, maybe. But I mean, ask everyone what they want. You could go around at lunch or whatever and ask people what they want to change about the school. You probably can’t do a lot of it, but it’d give you a sense of what you should talk about at the debate.”

“Hey Maggie?” Julia said. “That’s a good fucking idea.”

Magnus beamed. 

She kissed his cheek. Hurley made a gagging sound. 

“Okay, girls,” said Julia, turning back to Hurley and Sloane. “Does that sound actionable? We can go around at lunch tomorrow, and maybe in the bus line, too. Find out what all the problems are.”

“It’ll make you more visible, too,” said Hurley. “I think it’s a smart move. Boyfriend can stay.”

“Aw, thanks,” said Magnus. 

“We might just have a shot at this,” said Julia, like she’d never quite considered that before. 

“Fuck yeah,” said Sloane.

“I’m still worried, though,” said Hurley. “I think, in a fair fight, we’ve got okay chances, but Kalen’s not going to fight fair.”

“Shit. Yeah. What do you think he’ll do?”

“I don’t know. But this is Kalen we’re talking about. He’ll do anything to keep power.”

“So we cheat back,” said Sloane.

“No,” said Julia. “We don’t sink to his level. We’re going to win this clean.”

“Then what do you suggest we do?”

“I don’t know. Do you have any ideas?”

Sloane raised her hand.

“Any ideas that _aren’t_ ways to cheat?”

Sloane put her hand down.

Julia sighed. “Okay. Well, everyone keep it in the back of your head. We’ve got to put up these posters before the janitors kick us out. Sloane, you got tape?” 

“Course I do.” Sloane pulled four rolls of masking tape from her backpack and tossed them to each of them. 

“Sick. Let’s do this.” Julia slid from the desk.

“Boyfriend’s never been here,” Hurley pointed out. “If we let him wander alone, he’ll get lost.”

To Magnus’s complete surprise, Sloane said, “I’ll babysit him. Come on, boyfriend.” She flashed him a shark grin.

Julia patted Magnus’s arm. “You’ll be fine,” she said. “She only _dresses_ like a vampire.”

“Hey, boyfriend,” said Sloane. “You should carry the posters for me. That’s what boyfriends do, right?”

“I think that’s only for the person they’re dating,” Magnus said, but he scooped up all the posters anyway.

“I wouldn’t know,” said Sloane. “I’ve only ever had-slash-been girlfriends.”

Magnus followed Sloane to the cafeteria, where they hung Julia’s posters beside ones depicting food pyramids and what to do if someone’s choking. Kalen had a few posters up as well, though not as many as they were putting up for Julia. They were just sheets of printer paper with a black and white photo of, presumably, Kalen, doing a thumbs up. The caption read, “Vote Kalen, Vote Cool.”

Magnus considered the poster. “We should give him a mustache,” he said.

Sloane said, “I don’t think Julia would consider that a clean campaign.” Then, she added, “I have sharpies in my locker.”

“Nice!”

They left the posters on a cafeteria table and ran to Sloane’s locker, which was nearby. When she opened it, an ancient white flip camera fell out and nearly shattered on the floor before Sloane caught it. “Jesus,” she said, “that was close. Mrs. Ramirez will kill me if I break this.”

“Why do you have it?” Magnus asked. It didn’t seem odd that Sloane might be into photography or video-making, but if she was, it made a lot more sense aesthetically for her to have a nice, new camera, or a properly vintage one, and not the clunky, 2005-ass one in her hands.

“I have to do this project for Spanish class,” she said. “We’re doing a skit, only the dickheads in my group don’t actually want to get together and get it done, so I’ve had this piece of shit in my locker for like a week. I keep almost smashing it.”

“That sucks,” said Magnus.

“Yup.” She handed him a bundle of multicolored sharpies, held together with a rubber band. “But fuck homework. Let’s go do some vandalism!”

Back in the cafeteria, the two of them gleefully graffitied Kalen’s posters with hot pink mustaches and crossed-out eyes. 

“This is the most cathartic shit ever!” Sloane said. “This was such a good idea. I don’t care what Hurley says, you’re alright.”

Magnus had the sense that he was being teased again, but decided against commenting on it. 

“I just wish Julia would let us fuck with him more. He’s the literal worst.”

“He sounds like it.” Magnus paused, and then said, “This won’t be, I don’t know, dangerous for Julia or anything, will it?”

“Probably not. I mean, there’s always a chance he’ll try something, but all the teachers love Julia. She’s not a suck up or anything, she’s just, you know, _like that_.” 

Magnus nodded. He couldn’t imagine anyone not loving Julia. 

“So if the grownups will believe anyone over Kalen, it’d be Julia. And he knows that. Honestly, he probably doesn’t need to cheat to win. That meeting was… let’s say optimistic. And if he does cheat, it won’t be by hurting Julia. That’d just make people like her more. He’ll, like, fuck with the ballots or something.”

“God. Well, at least she’ll be okay.”

“Yeah.” She shot Magnus a look. “I worry about her, too.”

“I’m not trying to, I don’t know, step on her autonomy? It’s so cool that she’s taking a stand like this. I just—if she were hurt—”

“Damn,” said Sloane. “You’re really in it, aren’t you?”

“I guess.”

“I know how you feel. Hurley—she plays like every sport in the world, she’s incredible—but I watch her at these rugby matches and every time I think, if something happened to her, I don’t know how I’d cope. But nothing really bad ever happens, and she wins, most of the time. And when she does win, seeing her so happy makes all the fear worth it.”

Magnus smiled. “That’s beautiful, dude.”

Sloane ducked her head. “Whatever. I know it’s sappy, but it is true.” She sighed, and added, “I just wish there was something we could do to make sure _Julia_ was going to win.”

The beginning of an idea struck Magnus, then. “Maybe there is something we can do,” he said. “How long do you have that camera for?”


	14. Chapter 14

Taako and Lup got to the studio early enough that the previous class was still in session. It was the junior company ballet class, which meant it was full of older teenagers who had been at the studio for years. It was intended for pre-professional dancers, although who knew how many of them actually ended up dancing for a living. There were six girls in the junior company and only two boys. One of those boys was Kravitz.

Taako would have watched them practice even if Kravitz wasn’t there, he told himself. Taako was no dance master, but he’d seen enough of their practices before fencing over the years to know that they were good, and now that they’d started working on their Nutcracker routines—the junior company always played the lead roles—they were kind of mesmerizing.

And that was maybe true. But it was also true that Taako wasn’t watching the girls who were playing Clara and Fitz chase each other around, or the acrobatic boy playing the Mouse King—he was watching Kravitz.

Kravitz was playing the Nutcracker, a choice Taako thought was wise, because how could you make your romantic lead literally anyone else? His movements were precise and elegant as he danced. Even when he flubbed his moves (they’d been practicing for less than a month, so that was probably to be expected), he didn’t crumple like some of the other kids did. He just shook his head, smiling softly at his own foolishness, and picked up the dance again.

Taako was supposed to be doing his math homework for those twenty minutes before fencing. He didn’t get a single problem done.

Eventually, the teacher, Istus today, turned off the music and the students flooded into the lobby to change. The other fencers went to take their place, dragging their bags of gear and chatting animatedly. Taako was standing up to join them when he felt a hand on his arm and literally jumped—just a little, but still, it wasn’t his smoothest moment.

Of course the hand belonged to Kravitz. “Sorry,” he said.

“You’ve gotta stop sneaking up on me, Ghost Rider,” Taako said, and the embarrassed smile that his statement brought to Kravitz’s face made him feel a little better about jumping. “What’s up?”

“I just—I’ve got your hat, if you want it back.”

“Oh, dip, really? Yeah I want it back! Sorry to bail on you last weekend, by the way.”

“It’s fine. Your hat’s in the office, come on.”

Taako followed Kravitz into the office at the back of the studio, a place he’d rarely had occasion to visit. It was full of papers and old props. His hat was sitting on the desk, perched jauntily on a pile of what looked like permission slips.

“Thanks for holding onto this, my dude.”

“Of course,” Kravitz said. He hesitated, eyebrows knitting together, and then added, “Avi said you had to leave because of some kind of emergency? Is everything—are you okay?”

Fuck, that was thoughtful. Taako didn’t actually want to get into everything now, not with fencing class starting in the room behind him and Kravitz looking so worried, so he said, “Just a last minute curfew change. If I didn’t get home by eleven I was gonna turn into a pumpkin.”

Kravitz laughed at that, all the worry melting from his expression. “A pumpkin, not a kitchen girl?” he asked.

“I’m not really the damsel-in-distress type. You make a pretty good Prince Charming, though,” Taako said, indicating his wizard hat. That was openly flirting, which felt dangerous, but man if he couldn’t resist it. He wanted to make Kravitz laugh again.

And laugh Kravitz did, “I’m just glad I didn’t have to try it on the head of every guy in the land.” That was flirting back! That was definitely, unambiguously flirting back, and somehow that was even more dangerous if Kravitz had ignored it.

“Yeah, like, did that Prince have face blindness or something? What the fuck?”

Kravitz looked like he was about to say something, and then looked down and said, “I should get changed. I’m all gross from class.”

“You looked good out there,” Taako said. “Cracking nuts left and right.”

“That’s my goal. Taako—”

“Taako!” It was Mavis, sticking her head in the office door. “There you are! We thought you’d died!”

“Not just yet,” Taako said.

“Class is starting!”

“I’ll be there in a minute. Go murder Magnus or something.”

Mavis flashed him a grin and a two-fingered salute and went running off.

Taako turned back to Kravitz. “Looks like I’ve got to disappear on you again. Should I leave you with one of my shoes? I can’t say that they smell great but I’d want you to give them back anyway.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Let’s talk again soon, though.”

“You got it, my fella.”

Taako and Kravitz bumped fists, and then Taako left.

———

Barry beat Magnus.

He hadn’t been expecting to. His losses were getting narrower, but he was still losing to everyone but Merle and, once, by a technicality, Lucretia. He figured that if he was lucky, he’d get a few points on Magnus.

Magnus only had one strategy—he ran at people, trying to press them back to the end of the strip, keeping his arm out for priority and disengaging all their parries. If you could mess up his rhythm or catch him in a parry or beat his blade out of the way, it wasn’t hard to get him—he had too much forward momentum to switch back to defense easily. It had taken Barry three classes to catch onto this. It wasn’t complex. The problem was, in order to do any of those things, his bladework had to be faster than Magnus’s, and Magnus was _fast_.

But Barry was getting better. He’d stopped accidentally crossing his feet when he retreated and his bladework was coming back to him. He wasn’t great yet, but he could hold his own.

Which is how he ended up tied 4-4 with Magnus. They were both tired—it was both their second match, Magnus having beaten Angus, and Barry having lost to Taako—but Magnus was grinning behind his mask, and Barry was, too. That was the other thing about fencing Magnus--it was always really fun. Like, really fun.

“En garde,” Davenport said, his voice crisp as usual. “Ready, set… _fence!_”

Magnus exploded forward, as he always did, and Barry retreated, as he always did. He searched for an opening, but it was all he could do to keep up with Magnus. Getting ahead of him seemed impossible. Until Barry found his back foot had hit the wall—he had to stop retreating, which meant Magnus had to adjust his speed to not crash into him, and in that spit-second hesitation, Barry was able to catch Magnus’s blade and reposte, getting Magnus right in the stomach.

Davenport called, “Stop!” and the two of them did, frozen in place for a moment before standing up and letting their sword arms fall to their side. The judges were unanimous: the point was Barry’s, and so was the match. Magnus and Barry saluted and shook hands.

Davenport said to him, “That was a remarkably clean taking of the blade, Barry.”

Barry hadn’t realized that was what he was doing, although now that Davenport pointed it out, it seemed obvious. “Thank you,” he said. He was a little overwhelmed—not only had he won, he’d won _cleanly_, and with a move with cool name. That was not the sort of thing that usually happened to him.

As he went to put his mask away, Lup slung an arm around his shoulders. “That was a competent murder, “ she said. “We’re going to make a fencer of you yet, Barold J. Bluejeans.”

“Thanks, Lup. My middle name is actually--”

“Irrelevent.”

“Obviously. That’s just what I was going to say.” He was smiling like a dumbass, still high off the win and the praise, and she was beaming back.

——

Later than night, Magnus was working on his sculpture in the garage. His mom wasn’t home, which meant that in theory he could use power tools without bothering anyone, but staring at the lovely piece of oak he’d bought for the project, he was too nervous to cut into it. He’d sketched the general shape of his piece on the outside in pencil, but getting it out would be another situation entirely. He had just decided to go in with a knife, get the big chunks away a little more conservatively, when his phone buzzed on the worktable. It was Taako.

_Im bored. Wanna facetime?_

Magnus immediately called him.

Taako appeared on his screen, phone held at a perfect selfie angle. “Hail and well met!” he said. “Where are you?”

Magnus realized he’d left the phone on the table—he was giving Taako a clear view of the ceiling of the garage. He picked up the phone. “Hey, man.”

“Hey. Where are you? Is that your garage?”

“Yeah. I’m art-ing!” Magnus flipped the camera around so Taako could see his sculptue-to-be, and then swung it back around.

Taako had a hand pressed to his face, trying to suppress his laughter. “Hey Lup,” he called. “Lup! Guess what? Magnus just—Magnus just flashed me his wood!”

“You’re talking to Magnus?” Lup’s face appeared from the side of the frame, too close to the camera.

“Hi, Lup!” Magnus said.

“Hi Magnus! Do you have any more of that green duct tape? My converse are breaking again.”

“I’ll bring it to school for you,” Magnus promised.

“Sick! Taako, are you going to be talking in here?”

“Yup.”

“Kay, I’m going to the living room to write this fucking essay. See you boys later!”

“Bye, Lup!” Magnus said.

She disappeared, and a moment later, Magnus heard the door close.

“So,” Taako said. “You’re working on your bird thing?”

“My duck thing,” Magnus corrected. “Yeah, I’m starting to carve it now. It’s kind of a lot, like, I could really fuck it up now.”

“Nah, man, you got this. It’s gonna be the best fucking duck in the world.”

“Thanks.” Magnus propped his phone up on the table so he could see Taako and also start carving. “We’ll see how it goes.”

“And how’s _Julia_,” Taako asked teasingly, drawing her name out.

“She’s amazing.”

Taako made a face. “You’re so fucking sincere, it’s impossible to make fun of you.”

“Uh huh. And how’s _Kravitz_?” Magnus copied Taako’s tone.

“How the hell should I know?”

“Mavis said you two were sequestered in the studio office before class. That’s the word she used—sequestered.”

Taako wrinkled his nose. “She’s been spending too much time with Ango. The kid’s a walking thesaurus.”

Magnus didn’t disagree, but that was beside the point. “So?”

“So?”

“So what did Kravitz say?”

“Nothing interesting. He just gave me my hat back.”

“Sure.”

“God, what is up with you and Lup? You both keep fucking needling me about Kravitz. It’s annoying.” Taako’s voice was no longer teasing. He sounded genuinely aggravated, so Magnus backed off.

“I didn’t mean to needle you. It’s just—I think he’s into you.”

“He—what?”

“He draws you. I saw his sketchbook.”

Taako’s face had changed once again. “Huh,” he said, sounding almost exactly like Lup. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think he tells people. I might have snuck a glance at his sketchbook. I didn’t mean to! But. You know.”

“Huh,” Taako said again.

“And you’re into him, too, right?”

“_What?_ No. That’s—why would you even think that?”

Magnus laughed. It was as good as a confession.

“Listen. You can’t just assume I have a crush on every guy I talk to. That’s—that’s homophobic!”

Magnus wordlessly turned the phone to his backpack, slumped against the table leg, which sported no less than three bi pride pins.

“Internalized homophobia,” Taako said.

“That’s not what that means.”

“Whatever. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay, man. Why did you want to talk to me?”

“Because you’re my _friend_, dingus. I’ve finished my homework and Lup hasn’t and I don’t have anything to do.”

“Cool. Talk to me.”

So Taako talked, and Magnus carved, and they passed the rest of the evening like that. Part of Magnus’s brain was turning, though, because Julia _was_ amazing, and it seemed unfair that he be dating the girl he had a crush on while his best friend was yearning grouchily. There had to be something he could do about it, right?


	15. Chapter 15

So today was the day. By the time the final bell rang, Julia would either have won her revolution or lost it. Magnus had sent her a _Good luck!_ text that morning. She’d sent him back a heart emoji and an emoji with a sweating face.

Magnus had also texted Sloane, to make sure their backup plan was in place. Julia didn’t know about it, not because she wouldn’t approve (she probably would, Magnus thought), but because there was a not insignificant risk that this would get them in trouble, and neither Magnus nor Sloane were willing to let Julia take that hit. Sloane had told him, “My permanent record is shot to hell anyway. What’s one more suspension?”

She wasn’t going to get suspended for this, probably. Magnus didn’t think she would, at least, although it was hard to guess about a different school’s administrators. And probably they wouldn’t need the backup plan, because everyone was going to vote for Julia, because Julia was amazing.

Probably.

Probably.

Magnus was a nervous as if he were running for office himself. Staying focused at school was an uphill battle for him at the best of times, and today, it was an impossibility. He got in trouble in Algebra II for tapping his pen against the table loudly enough to bother the other kids, and at lunch, Lup had to say his name three times before he noticed she was trying to talk to him. He was bubbling with nervous energy, a shaken soda bottle. If he could just go for a run, or work out, or _something—_but instead he was stuck trying to make the words hisCivics and Economics teacher was saying stick to his brain. It wasn’t working.

Halfway through the class, his phone buzzed against his leg. He glanced down. It was Sloane.

_Results in 10. Skip class and call me_

He replied, _Yes maam,_ signed out on one of his two bathroom passes for the quarter, and went to find someplace quiet. Maybe, if he was lucky—yes! There weren’t any classes rehearsing in the big auditorium, and though the main doors were locked when the room wasn’t in use, the stage door was usually propped open, for fire hazard reasons apparently. It was supposed to be a secret, but word spread. It was reputed one of the better places to hook up on campus, if that was your thing. Better than a bathroom or the bottom of a stairwell. Magnus dearly hoped he’d be alone there now.

Magnus slipped in through the door and into a dark wilderness of curtains. It was quiet—no moaning—and although he nearly stepped in a used condom, the backstage seemed to be unoccupied. There were wooden risers behind the rows of curtains; he sat on the bottom row and called Sloane.

She picked up immediately and switched to FaceTime before Magnus could get the phone to a decent angle.

“Boyfriend!” Sloane said. “You’re in the dark!” She looked like she was in class, but a chaotic class. There was a lot of talking in the background.

“Hey, Sloane!”

“Julia, say hi to your boyfriend!”

Julia’s face appeared at the edge of the screen. “Hi Maggie!”

“Hi, Jules!”

Julia looked at Sloane. “Why are _you_ FaceTiming _my_ boyfriend?”

“Someone had to. You wouldn’t ask him to skip class, would you?”

Julia looked shocked. “Magnus, are you skipping?”

“Just a little,” Magnus said. “I’ve been so fucking nervous all day, I wasn’t going to be able to learn anything anyway.”

Julia rubbed her arm with one hand. “Yeah,” she said. “That’s the mood.”

“There’s supposed to be an announcement any minute now,” Sloane said, sounding slightly manic.

“Don’t remind me,” Julia said.

“What do you think—” Magnus began, but he was cut off by a voice over the intercom. It was twice-fuzzy because of the intercom system and the phone, but he could still hear it.

“Students, please congratulate your 2019-2020 class presidents. For the freshman class, Alexandria Oates—”

Julia looked pleased; Sloane rolled her eyes affectionately—

“For the sophomore class, Jonah Jay—”

Julia and Sloane exchanged a disheartened look—

“For the junior class, Kalen Whelk—”

The voice on the intercom said more after that, but Magnus couldn’t hear it over the uproar. It wasn’t just Julia and Sloane yelling, it seemed to be the whole class. A few were cheering, but it mostly sounded like angry shouts. Magnus heard more than a few curse words, including some compound ones he’d never heard before. He added his own voice to the din, shouting, “Sloane, _go!_”

The camera jostled and Magnus lost track of what he was seeing, but he could tell they were moving, and fast. He heard Julia’s voice from somewhere behind the phone—“Sloane, where are we going?”—and Sloane reply, “Just hurry!”

Moments later, he saw what was clearly a hallway floor flashing by on the screen, and then Sloane’s boots scampering up a staircase. At the top, Hurley’s voice joined the conversation:

“Are we doing it?”

“Might as well!”

“Doing _what?_”

“Go!” Magnus and Sloane said at the same time, and the phone was in motion again.

A door banged open. An adult made a surprised sound.

“I’m so sorry—” Julia began, but Sloane cut her off.

“We need to talk to Principal Bane.”

Hurley added, “Right now, please, it’s important.”

The adult, who was the same one whose voice Magnus had heard over the intercom, pressed a button and said, “Principal Bane, some kids want to see you.”

“Show them in!” said another voice, this one astonishingly gruff.

More movement, another door, and then the phone was placed face-down on a table. Magnus found himself looking up at the bottom of Sloane’s chin, an unflattering angle to say the least. Taako, Magnus thought, would never let himself be filmed from that angle, even in an emergency like this.

“I would like to contest the results of the election,” Sloane said. She was trying to sound professional but was clearly out of breath from running up the stairs.

There was a pause, and then the gruff voice said, “Julia, I’m disappointed at your poor sportsmanship. I expected better of you.”

Sloane said, “Julia’s not contesting the results, I am. I dragged her here. She has no idea what’s going on.”

“I really don’t,” Julia said. “Sloane, what are you—”

Sloane pushed on. “If I can prove that the votes were tampered with, will you call for a second election?”

“What are you talking about?” This was the principal again.

“I rigged a camera up in the room where the ballot box was kept after lunch. It’s been recording since this morning. If we watch the footage, and the ballot box was tampered with, will you call for a second election?”

The principal made a number of shocked wuffuling sounds. Magnus’s heart dropped. He wasn’t going to believe them, and Julia was going to lose, and Sloane would get detention for fucking with school property, and—

Hurley said, “Please, sir. If the footage is clean we won’t say anything else about it.”

There was a pause, and then the principal said, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to look.”

Sloane looked down at the phone, one eyebrow raised. She’d said that Hurley had a rapport with Principal Bane, and Magnus hadn’t believed her, but here it was.

The phone started moving again. Like a good friend-slash-camerawoman, Sloane flashed the phone at each of the people in the group. Hurley and an enormous man who must have been Principal Bane were walking in the front; Magnus only saw the backs of their heads, but the height difference was genuinely staggering. Julia, pink and sweaty, her hair in disarray and her forehead deeply furrowed, shot a confused glance back at them. And then Sloane switched the camera back to selfie mode and stuck her tongue out at Magnus.

“You still there, Boyfriend?” she asked in an undertone.

“Of course.”

“This is happening!” Sloane sounded excited. Magnus felt a little sick.

Another door. Another table, this one blocking Magnus’s vision entirely. He heard a scraping noise, the clomping of Sloane’s boots, the unmistakable sound of tape tearing.

“Be careful of the paint!” Hurley said.

“I’m being careful, babe,” Sloane replied.

Boots hitting the floor. The phone was picked back up, and they were walking back the way they’d come. The camera was kind of shaking—maybe Sloane was finally nervous, or maybe she was too zazzed to hold still. Magnus’s own leg was shaking a mile a minute. He was so glad he’d left class; he’d be dying if they did this without him.

The girls crowded around Principal Bane’s computer and waited as he flicked out the USB on the camera and began to upload the footage. Sloane held her phone up so Magnus could see. It only took two or three minutes, but they were the longest minutes Magnus had ever experience.

Finally, the video showed up in a QuickTime viewer, and Bane clicked play.

The footage began on a close-up of Sloane’s left eyebrow as she affixed the camera to the wall just where it met the ceiling. “Fast forward,” Hurley told the principal, “or we’ll be here forever.”

Principal Bane hit fast forward, and Sloane’s image zipped down from the ceiling and out the door. There were several seconds of stillness, and then a teacher and two students entered, carrying a large box covered in American flag-themed wrapping paper. It had a large slit at the top. They left, and nothing happened, and nothing happened, and Magnus began to think that nothing was _going_ to happen and Julia had lost fair and square when another person entered the room. Julia gasped and Hurley said, “_Hit play hit play hit play!”_

Principal Bane hit play. They all watched as a teen boy, White with tousled blond hair and an aesthetically perfect jawline, looked furtively around the room, then turned the box over and shook it until pieces of paper fell out. He sorted them into two piles, put the smaller pile back in the box, and pocketed the larger one.

“I can’t believe it,” Principal Bane said. “He was such a nice boy.”

“He—” Sloane began, but either Julia or Hurley must have caught her eye because she didn’t finish the statement.

Bane stood up and went to the door. “Call Kalen Whelk to my office,” he told the woman at the desk. He turned back to them “I’m willing to hear his side of the story, but this footage is pretty incriminating. If you girls will wait outside for just a few minutes?”

“Of course,” Julia said.

They trooped out of the office and into the receptionist’s room, where they sat on three chairs against the wall. Sloane angled the phone so Magnus could be a part of the group.

“How’re you feeling, Jules?” he asked.

“I’m feeling—I’m feeling a lot,” she said. “Sloane, did you actually rig up that camera?”

“You saw me do it.”

“But—you could have gotten in _so much trouble_!”

“You’re the one who’s always going on about civil disobedience and shit. We’re doing it for justice!”

“Oh my God.” Julia put her hands over her face. She sounded like she was about to cry. “You guys, this is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me!”

Sloane smirked. “It was Boyfriend’s idea.”

Julia looked up from her hands. “This was you, Maggie?”

“Sloane did all the legwork,” Magnus said, “and Hurley stood watch and everything. But yeah, it was my idea.”

“When we’re in the same physical place, I’m gonna smooch the shit out of you,” Julia said.

Magnus glowed.

Julia turned to Sloane. “Forgive me if I don’t extend the same offer to you.”

“I’ve got my own source of smooches,” Sloane said, putting her arm around Hurley.

Magnus heard the door open. Sloane’s mouth clamped shut, and she switched the camera so Magnus could see the perfect-jawed boy from the video cross the room, head held high. He disappeared behind the door to the principal’s office.

Sloane flipped the camera back to selfie mode. “He has no idea,” she whispered, delighted.

Magnus could hear voices from the office, quiet at first, then increasingly louder. Something shattered. The door swung open. Principal Bane was holding Kalen under one arm. “Find the suspension forms,” he said, even more gruffly than before. “And keep an eye on this young man. Girls, come into my office.”

They did. A picture frame lay broken on the floor—Sloane directed the phone toward it quickly before snapping it back to Bane.

“Mind the glass,” he told them. He sat down behind his desk and sighed. “Kalen confessed. I can’t believe it.”

Magnus couldn’t see the girls’ faces, but he knew Sloane’s was burning, and the other two were silently begging her not to say anything.

“Well. It seems our election was unfair. I’m not calling for another one, though.”

Sloane made an indignant noise, but Bane held up his hand. “I’m not calling for another one because Kalen has been disqualified, which means Julia was running unopposed. So.” He stood back up and held out his hand. “Congratulations, Madame President.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe I've got the table of contents issue sorted out! Let me know if it's still weird for you guys. Also, holy shit, thanks for sticking with me through fifteen chapters! Y'all are amazing <3


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for injury in this one. Take care of yourselves!

Barely anyone showed up to fencing the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Angus was there—his extended family was descending on his grandpa’s apartment even as he was changing into his t-shirt and knickers—as were Davenport, Lucretia, and Magnus, but everyone else was already out of town.

The tap class that usually ran in the next room was cancelled for break, and the only person in the lobby was Kravitz, tucked behind his sketchbook, so the usually-bustling studio was unsettlingly quiet. Every step Angus took sounded like a slap on the floor. Running laps for warm ups was eerie as hell.

It wasn’t completely empty, though—both the owners were there, going in and out of their office. While everyone was getting geared up, Raven charged into the room. She scared Angus a little—some of it was the amount of black leather she wore, and some of it was the way she spoke, like whatever she wanted was _inevitable_. Luckily, she ignored Angus this time, rounding on Magnus. “I need a babysitter to watch kids backstage at the Nutcracker,” she said, with no preamble whatsoever.

“Um, when?”

She told him.

“I’m, um, I’m actually out of town that weekend? Sorry.”

Raven raised one eyebrow at Magnus.

“I’ll—I’ll call my friends?” Angus wasn’t sure he’d ever heard Magnus’s voice that high.

Raven nodded. “Put them on speaker phone.”

Moments later, as Angus was tightening his underarm guard, he heard Lup’s voice saying, “Hello?”

Magnus said, “Hey, Lup. Sorry to interrupt things.”

“No problem. You actually super just saved us—it’s hell here. Taako’s here, too! Say hi, Taako.”

“Hi, Taako,” Taako and Magnus said at the same time.

Angus grinned.

Magnus said, “So, um, Raven, from the studio, has a question for you.”

“I need a babysitter to watch kids backstage at the Nutcracker,” Raven said again. It was genuinely frightening how little her inflection changed. She told them the date.

Lup hissed through her teeth. “I wish I could, but I have my orchestra rehearsal that night. Taako?”

There was a pause. “I’m a shitty babysitter,” Taako said. Angus, who had in fact been babysat by Taako once or twice the year prior, privately agreed.

“But you’re free?” Raven said.

“Um…”

“Great. It’s seven dollars an hour. We’ll talk more when you get back.” And Raven turned and walked out of the room.

“Well,” said Magnus, looking from the phone to Angus, “that was weird.”

There weren’t enough of them to hold a proper bout—Davenport had to ref and judge at the same time—but they were doing their best. Angus had just lost gracefully to Lucretia, who was now fighting her second bout in a row against Magnus.

Lucretia wasn’t doing great. Magnus wasn’t going as fast as he usually did, but she was even less steady on her feet than usual. Still, Lucretia was smart enough to fence well even when she fenced slowly. She could use Magnus’s momentum against him, and retaliate with sharp and precise bladework, only taking a step or two in either direction. Angus really admired her for that. That’s the kind of fencer he wanted to be—detailed and canny, although he wouldn’t hate being fast, too. He wasn’t bad, he didn’t think, but his arms were so much shorter than everyone else’s that it took so much work just to get close enough to hit.

Oh well. He’d grow up soon.

Per Jewish law, he was almost a man, which seemed unfair when he hadn’t even hit his first pubescent growth spurt yet. All the girls in his class towered over him. Even Mavis, who was objectively short, had at least two inches on him. It sucked.

Angus was moping about the trials of being twelve and so didn’t notice anything until Lucretia screamed.

It was not a sound that it seemed like she should be able to make. It was high-pitched and young-sounding, a girl’s scream, not a woman’s. And it was awful. Angus jammed his hands over his ears and snapped his attention to the scene in front of him.

Lucretia had over-lunged, slipped into something like a split, and was now on the floor clutching her thigh. Her eyes were closed. She wasn’t crying, had stopped screaming—but her face was crumpled in a way Angus had never seen from her before. Lucretia was always so composed. Seeing that composure break was scarier than the scream.

“Points down,” Davenport snapped, but Magnus had already abandoned his mask and sword on the ground and dropped to his knees beside Lucretia.

Angus scrambled to her, too, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Ma’am,” he said, and was going to follow that up with, “are you okay?” but that was a stupid thing to say when she so obviously wasn’t.

Something blocked out the florescent lights—it was Kravitz, standing over them. “I’ll get my mom,” he said. “She’ll know what to do.”

Davenport asked, “Lucretia, can you stand?”

Lucretia pressed her eyes shut. She’d only screamed the once, hadn’t cried at all, but it was clear she was barely holding it together. “I’m not sure,” she said horsely.

Magnus pulled her arm over his shoulders. “I’ve got you,” he said, gently. He helped her to her feet—or foot, she couldn’t put weight on one of them—and half-carried her to the couch in the lobby. Angus noticed him glancing at Kravitz’s sketchbook, abandoned on the coffee table, which was weird.

Istus rushed into the room with a first aid kit, trailing Kravitz behind her. Angus didn’t know much about Istus, other than that she was one of the owners of the dance studio and one of Kravitz’s moms, but she was always fascinating to look at. She wasn’t that old, but her hair was grey, and she died bits of it different pastel colors and wore eight hundred scarves and huge hippie skits. The effect was usually whimsical, but the look on her face now was grave.

“Lucretia,” she said, “do you mind if I take a look at your leg in the changing room? Kravitz says you fell.”

“I—I’m not sure—” Lucretia was hanging on tightly to the frame of the couch. Her knuckles were pale.

“I do this for my dancers all the time,” Istus said. “You probably pulled a hamstring, but I have to make sure you haven’t torn it.”

Lucretia’s forehead furrowed. She seemed almost more distressed about this than she had about her injury. What was going on that had shaken her so badly? Angus was still panicking, but he was also maybe a little bit curious.

“If you think that’s best,” she said to Istus. Magnus helped her to the bench in the changing room, and Istus closed the two of them inside.

Angus, Magnus, and Kravitz hovered around the waiting room. It felt wrong to leave, but staying also felt a bit like invading Lucretia’s privacy. Davenport was out on the strip, picking up their abandoned gear, and Angus considered going to help him, but there wasn’t much to do, anyway. Also, he wanted to know what was happening.

Everyone was so quiet that he could hear the zipper on Lucreita’s knickers. There was a pause, and then Istus said, “Oh my. Lucretia, are you—”

“Please,” Lucretia said, very softly.

“Of course. Pardon me.”

Angus was immediately burning up with curiosity. What had Istus seen? Lucretia was all silent dignity and controlled bladework—she was so buttoned up that Angus had no problem at all imagining her with a terrible secret of some kind. How could he not have noticed it before? Nobody was that private if they didn’t have something to hide. Not in mystery books, and not in real life, either.

What did Lucretia do for a living? Why had she taken up fencing? Where was she from? What was wrong with her legs, and why was it a secret? Why hadn’t she gone anywhere for Thanksgiving?

Angus realized he didn’t even know her last name. Hiding something, for sure.

Lucretia and Istus didn’t say anything interesting after that, just like, “Does it hurt when I do this?” and “How long do you think it’ll be like this?” Eventually, they emerged from the changing room, and Istus announced that she’d only pulled her hamstring. “Stay off it as much as you can for the next few days, but you should be back to fencing by the week after next,” she said, and Lucretia gave her a wan smile.

There were only fifteen minutes left in class, and with Lucretia hurt no one felt much like fighting anyway, so Davenport told them to go ahead and get changed. Angus went straight to his gear bag and grabbed his cell phone. He didn’t text Mavis often, but he had her number, and she had a laptop and knew the context so—

_Want to help me solve a mystery?_


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for illness and vomit. Take care of yourselves! 
> 
> It's a hurt/comfort fic inside the bigger fic, like a TAZ matryoshka doll!

Magnus didn’t have time to be sick.

He’d assumed that when people said Junior year was the hardest one, they meant it was hard because it was the first year they could take AP classes. But Magnus wasn’t in any APs, and school was still kicking his entire ass. He started his homework on the bus and was still doing it until nine or ten, most nights. Then, he had to work on Ducks in Flight, which was a lot more fun than homework, but still took up hours. Plus, there was fencing on Wednesdays and Amtgaurd on Saturdays and friends to FaceTime. And Julia! They were both so busy, they’d only managed one date, but they talked constantly. Sometimes, they’d just do work on FaceTime together, their phones propped up on their desks—it was a poor excuse for actual proximity, but it was the best they could do.

Magnus was getting a less-than-optimal amount of sleep. He’d stopped bothering to make dinner when his mother wasn’t home, just eating full bags chips at his desk while he worked. This week had been especially bad—he had an English paper due the same day as a chemistry test, and he’d barely slept at all. He had another test on Monday, and a tournament to go to. He didn’t have time to be sick.

So, when Magnus woke up with a pulsing dizziness in his head and a churning in his stomach, he simply decided he wasn’t sick. He hauled himself out of bed, popped some ibuprofen, and took a shower, both of which helped a little. He felt almost human by the time Taako and Lup arrived, and he grinned and hugged them as usual. They were bickering affectionately, too wrapped up in whatever they were talking about to notice how quiet he was being. Taako raided Magnus’s kitchen and threw together some omelettes for the three of them plus Barry, which they had to take to eat in the car when Barry finally showed up.

Something about the eggs and cheese and the movement of the car made Magnus’s stomach rebel. He didn’t say anything, though. They didn’t have an alternate fencer—if he backed out, they’d have to forfeit. Technically, each tournament was its own thing, but everyone kept track of the wins and losses anyway. Lup and Taako—Lup especially—cared so much about winning, about beating the Wonderboro team. He couldn’t let them down. So, Magnus kept his mouth closed, pressed his sweating forehead to the cool glass of the car window, and willed himself to keep his shit together.

The others didn’t notice. Lup put on the radio when the got in, cranking Lizzo all the way up. She and Taako sang along at the top of their lungs, and Barry sang too. Even semi-conscious, Magnus thought that was pretty cool. Barry wouldn’t have done that a couple months ago. Magnus didn’t sing, because he didn’t totally trust opening her mouth.

When they arrived, Carey attached herself to Magnus, talking nonstop about some terrible thing her mother had said and how Killian had gotten her ice cream when she found her crying and did that mean anything? Because it seemed like it meant something but maybe it didn’t mean what she wanted it to mean. He was grateful for Carey’s monologue, because it meant he didn’t have to do anything other than make thoughtful noises when she paused to breathe. He felt like he was moving underwater. His arms felt so heavy. Also, it was fucking cold in this gym. Who kept their air conditioner on in November?

Julia came in with Hurley and Sloane, and when she saw him, she ran to him and kissed him. He held her there, lost for a moment in her closeness, until she pulled back to look at him.

“You’re three dimensional!” she said.

He laughed. “So are you. You look great!”

“Oh please, this t-shirt is four hundred years old.”

“Your shirt _is _terrible,” he agreed, “but you look great.”

“Aww. You too, babe. Listen, let’s sit together in a minute. I’ve gotta get suited up, but then I want to talk!”

“Sure thing.” Magnus also had to get his gear on, and check in with Lup about who they were fighting.

He didn’t get to talk to Julia before the bouts started, however, because inexplicably, putting on his fencing gear took twice as long as usual. He kept forgetting what he was doing in the middle of actions, staring into space for God-knows-how-long, until he realized what he was doing and pressed on.

Taako must have noticed, because he asked, “You okay, dude?”

“Of course,” Magnus said. Saying “yes” would have been a lie, but “of course” was an affirmation—he refused to not be okay.

“Good,” said Lup, “‘cause we’re up against the Felicity team first, and word on the street is Artemis sucks a lot less than he used to. Taako, you’re up against Antonia first, then Magnus and Artemis, and then me and Rowan. Everyone ready?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Magnus.

“You know it,” said Taako.

“You guys got this!” Barry said from the bleachers. Lup flashed him a thumbs up, then led them all to the strip.

During Taako’s bout, Magnus began to get the sense that something had gone very wrong. Even though he was wearing two more layers of clothing, the cold had gotten worse. He was shivering, and he couldn’t seem to make himself stop. His head felt stuffed with cotton, and his stomach churned.

Still, when Taako emerged victorious, he high fived him and attached the cord to his lamé and sword. He saluted Artemis, put on his mask, got into en garde position. His legs ached. The tip of his foil drooped. He barely heard the ref saying, “fence,” and didn’t realize what it meant until Artemis sprang at him.

Magnus stumbled back, parrying in time but without enough force to actually move Artemis’s blade. Artemis stabbed him, the lights went off, and they returned to the center of the strip. Magnus’s stomach was getting worse. His breathing was fast and shallow. He gripped his foil tighter and told himself to focus.

This time, when the ref called, “fence,” Magnus moved first. He lunged at Artemis, intending to do his usual series of disengages, but he wasn’t fast enough to slip Artemis’s parry. It wasn’t that hard, but Magnus felt the hilt of his foil slip from his hand. It dangled by the cord for just a second before he was able to catch it and press on—but Artemis was already counterattacking, his point catching Magnus right in the stomach.

Magnus’s insides rolled. _Oh no_, he thought. He had just enough presence of mind to stomp three times on the ground.

“Halt,” the ref called. “Burnsides, what’s—”

There was no time, no time to answer. Magnus ripped his mask off, dropping it heedlessly to the floor. He took off for the bathroom at a run, but forgot he was still hooked into the electric system. The cords jerked him back, and that was it.

He heaved, vomiting all over his shoes and the shiny gym floor.

He heard gasps from behind him, people saying words, but he couldn’t make sense of them. He sank to his knees, shaking, and threw up again.

Hands on his shoulders, gripping his arms. Someone—two someones—hauled him to his feet, steering him around the mess on the floor and toward the men’s room. He looked up to see Taako on one side, his shoulder jammed under Magnus’s armpit, and Barry on the other.

Someone unhooked Mangus from his foil and lamé. Someone shouted about a clean up kit. Taako and Barry hauled him up and dragged him to the men’s locker room at the far edge of the gym, depositing him on the floor in front of a toilet. The tile was cool beneath his fingers, and somehow comforting. He thought maybe he was starting to feel a little better—and then he threw up again.

“I’m going to find some water,” Barry said from somewhere behind him.

There was a hand on his back, Taako’s, his slender fingers pressing into Magnus’s skin. “You okay there, big guy?”

“I mean,” Magnus said, panting, “Not really.”

“Yeah, well. I got you. Do what you gotta do, my dude.”

And Taako stayed there, palm on Magnus’s back, until there wasn’t anything left in Magnus’s stomach to evacuate. Magnus sat back on his heels, breathing hard. Barry silently handed him some damp paper towels, and he wiped his face. He took the plastic cup of water Barry handed him next, swished half of it in his mouth, and spat it into the toilet. He drank the other half in one gulp. His stomach was starting to chill out a little.

Taako peered over Magnus’s shoulder. “You look like shit,” he said. “Can you stand?”

“I—I think so.” Magnus picked himself up and made it as far as the sink before he had to grab onto it for support. He felt like someone had hollowed out his legs. Barry and Taako caught him under the arms again and eased him back to the floor. At least this time he was sitting up.

Barry said, “I’m going to see if someone’s got an extra t-shirt. You should probably get out of that jacket.”

“Good call,” Magnus said. His voice was hoarse and croaky. He pulled off his glove and dropped it on the floor.

Taako scooted behind him to unzip his jacket. Magnus was kind of surprised he was still here. Taako didn’t usually do gross things, if he could help it, and he was usually the first person to excuse himself in an emergency. But he helped Magnus work his weak, sweaty arms out of the jacket and folded it up so everything unpleasant was on the inside. “You got your underarm guard?” he asked.

Magnus was indeed able to unhook his underarm guard and let gravity pull it down his arm.

Taako looked at him. “How long have you felt like this?”

“I dunno,” Magnus said. “Since this morning.”

“Dumbass. Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Didn’t want to make you miss the tournament.” Magnus shook his head slowly. “Guess that backfired.”

“I’ll say. But fuck, man, do you really think we care more about being here than your health?”

“Maybe,” Magnus said. Now that his body was beginning to work again, he was starting to feel kind of silly about this whole thing.

“Dumbass,” Taako said again. He pressed the side of his head to Magnus’s arm. “Fucking ask for help sometimes.”

Magnus shut his eyes. His mouth tasted awful, but his legs were steadier. Maybe, in a minute, he’d be able to stand.

“Let me _in!_” came Julia’s voice from the other side of the door. “He’s my _boyfriend_! I need to be with him!”

The door burst open, and there was Julia. She was still holding her mask, and her hair was falling out of its ponytail. She dropped to her knees next to Magnus. “Maggie, hon, are you okay?”

“Peachy,” Magnus croaked.

“You scared me so bad,” Julia said, throwing her arms around his neck. And then, “You smell terrible.”

“Sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize, you’re perfect.”

“You probably shouldn’t hug me,” Magnus told her. “I could be contagious.”

Taako rolled his eyes. “Now you think of that, after I spent an hour and a half next to you in the car.”

“Sorry,” Magnus said again.

Taako waved off the apology. “Just don’t be so damn heroic next time.”

“You got it.”

The door opened again, more gently this time, to reveal Barry, holding a white t-shirt and another cup of water. “Hey, bud,” he said, handing Magnus the water. He watched, forehead furrowed, as Magnus drank it, and then he said, “Ren’s on the phone with her mom outside. She says you can probably stay with her tonight, if you’re too sick to make it back home. I honestly don’t think that’s a bad idea.”

“Ren?” Magnus repeated. “Who’s out there?”

“Pretty much everyone,” Barry admitted.

Magnus put his head in his hands. He’d stopped the whole tournament.

“The Wonderboro kids are complaining, of course, and Artemis is nagging one of the refs to make sure your—accident—counts as a win for him. But everyone else is worried about you.” Barry smiled a little. “You’ve got a lot of friends.”

“And he didn’t bother to mention that he felt like shit to _any_ of them,” Taako snapped. His tone was the kind of grouchy that meant he’d been really scared. The knowledge simultaneously warmed Magnus and filled him with guilt.

Julia finally let go of him so he could change into the clean shirt, which made him feel a little better, and then they walked him out of the bathroom. He was pretty steady on his feet, but all three of them kept a hand on him, anyway. Lup was waiting just outside the bathroom door, and beyond her was, well, everyone. Carey, Killian, Noelle, Rowan, Antonia, Hurley, Sloane, Ren, Roswell… Even Cassidy, who usually kept to herself, was hovering near the back of the group. They all started talking at once, asking him how he felt, if they could help, how worried they’d been. It was overwhelming, but kind of in a good way. Magnus thought he might cry.

Lup touched Magnus’s arm. “We’re here for you,” she said in an undertone. “Just let us help.”

“Okay,” Magnus said. “I will.”


	18. Chapter 18

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Mavis asked. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed in the room she shared with Mookie at Merle’s. Agnus was sitting beside her. He’d commandeered her laptop but seemed to be having trouble sitting still. She’d never seen him look so excited before, not even when he beat Taako at fencing. He was kind of bouncing in place, and had been ever since she let him into the apartment.

“Why not?” he asked, looking up at her. There was no challenge in his voice—it was like he genuinely didn’t know why she’d be asking.

“We’re kind of stalking Lucretia, aren’t we? Is that, like, an okay thing to do?”

Angus waved his hand. “We’re not stalking her, we’re investigating. And anyway, it’s not like we’re going to find anything that isn’t publicly available information. We’re just doing some googling.”

“I guess. But if this gets weird, I’m taking my computer back.”

“Deal.” Angus held out a hand for her to shake, and Mavis took it.

“How do we start?”

“Let’s just start with her name and see what comes up. Do you know her last name?”

Mavis had heard Merle say it before. “Badar,” she said. “I think spelled B-A-D-A-R, but it could be E-R.”

Angus typed it in. “Did you know she worked for the paper?” he asked.

Mavis peered over his shoulder. The top results on the screen were all articles Lucretia’d written for the Faerun Citizen Times, mostly pretty fluffy pieces. High school art shows and interviews with old people, stuff like that. “I didn’t.”

“Let’s see if she has a bio on the website.”

It turned out that she didn’t—none of the Times reporters did—but they were able to search her name in the archives to figure out when she’d started working there. She’d been at the Times for four years, and she’d been writing these little human interest stories the whole time. “Which is weird,” Angus said. “Does Miss Lucretia seem like the kind of person who’d write about dog shows?”

“Not for four years,” Mavis said. “I’d imagine those are the kind of jobs you give newby reporters so they can’t fuck them up, not people who’ve been working for you a long time.”

“I didn’t even think about that,” Angus said. His forehead was wrinkled. “What happens if we search her, but only look before she started at the Times?”

He opened another tab, and they searched just that. What came up was still articles with Lucretia’s byline, but they were of a very different sort.

“International correspondent for the Neverwinter Post,” Angus read.

“Holy shit,” Mavis said. “Look at all these. She was, like, a big deal.”

The articles were mostly on-the-ground reports of a civil war in an Eastern European country Mavis hadn’t ever heard of. Some of them were weekly updates on the situation, and some were breaking news reports. Some had just her name on them, but several were co-written with a guy named Cam Forrest. They were pretty dark, mostly. It seemed like regular people were always caught in the crossfire between the government and the rebels. Mavis couldn’t make herself look at the pictures that accompanied the articles; they were too gruesome.

Angus had a stronger stomach—he was peering closely at one of the photos right then. “The picture credits are all the same,” he said. “See the little copyright thing in the corner?They all say Maureen Miller.”

“Do you think they were a team?” Mavis asked. “Lucretia and Cam and Maureen. Their names keep showing up together.”

Angus sat back and sighed. “Maybe. What happened to them? I can’t imagine doing important work like this for—it looks like years—and then writing fluffy bullshit for a local paper.”

“Maybe she was traumatized,” Mavis said. Mavis was feeling a little traumatized herself, and all she’d done was binge a bunch of articles. “Maybe the puff pieces are fun after working in a war zone.”

“Maybe,” Angus said, sounding doubtful.

“When do the articles for Neverwinter end?”

Angus changed his search parameters. “About six months before the articles for the Times start. We should make a timeline.”

Mavis fished her English notebook out of her backpack and flipped to the last page. She started noting down the dates they’d established so far.

“Cam Forrest’s bylines stop around the same time,” Angus told her. “I’m looking for other stuff by Maureen Miller but I don’t see any after that either.”

“So whatever happened to Lucretia happened to all of them.”

“Probably. Oh—oh fuck.”

“What?” Mavis looked up from her notebook, and then echoed, “Oh fuck.”

Displayed on the screen was a brief obituary for Maureen Miller, the last use of her name on the Neverwinter Post website. It didn’t just say how she’d died, just that she’d been a documentary photographer for the paper, and that she was survived by her son, Lucas Humanman Miller. Her date of death was just after the last article Lucretia wrote.

“I guess we know what happened,” Mavis said.

“No we don’t!” Angus said. “We know she died, but we don’t know how or why or if it even has anything to do with Lucretia’s past or her legs or whatever she’s hiding, but! It’s aclue!” He was grinning, practically vibrating off the bed.

Mavis was kind of uncomfortable with the whole thing. This lady had _died_ and it wasn’t nice of them to treat that as a stepping stone. But at the same time, Angus was right. They still didn’t know so much, and now that she’d seen a little more of the picture, she wanted to see the rest of it. So she pushed her misgivings aside and said, “Humanman’s a weird middle name. I wonder where this guy is.”

Angus copy-pasted his name into the search bar. “Faerun,” he said, quiet and amazed.

“Are you serious?”

Angus tilted the laptop so Mavis could see the first search result. _Faerun University Announces 2019 Engineering Scholarship Recipients. _In the little bit of the article under the link, she read three names: Cora Marie Langston, Gretchen Chang, and Lucas Humanman Miller.

“Holy shit,” she said.

“Right?” Angus was already pulling out his phone. “Mister Barry goes to Faerun U. Maybe he knows Lucas.”

“Why do you have Barry’s number?”

“He’s been, um, helping me with Bar Mitzvah stuff.”

“I thought you didn’t need any help, Mr. Language Genius Guy,” Mavis said, elbowing him lightly in the ribs.

“I _don’t_, I just—it’s nice to have someone who knows when I’m messing up.”

“Okay, okay. Call Barry.”

Angus did, putting the phone on speaker so Mavis could hear too.

Barry picked up after several rings. “Hey Ango,” he said. “Sorry to take so long, I’m in the library and I had to get to a stairwell. What’s up?”

“Hi, Mr. Barry! Mavis is here too.”

“Oh, hey Mavis!”

“Hi Barry!”

Angus said, “We were wondering if you could help us with a mystery. We’re trying to find someone who goes to school with you named Mr. Lucas Humanman Miller.”

“I know Lucas!” Barry said, sounding surprised.

“Really?”

“Yeah, we’re in the same Scientific Ethics class! We did our midterm presentation together.” There was a pause, and then Barry added, “That’s actually the worst grade I’ve ever gotten.”

“Is there any way you could set up a time for us to talk to him?” Angus pressed.

“I mean, I can ask. It won’t be soon—we’re all being killed by finals right now, but after break?”

“Yes, sir, I think that would work!”

“Okay, great. Um, if that’s all…”

“That’s it! Thank you so much, sir.”

“You got it, bud. See you later. Bye, Mavis!”

“Bye, Barry!”

Angus hung up and turned to Mavis, grinning. “We did it,” he said.

“We did it,” she agreed. “The game’s a-fucking-foot!”

—————

Taako was in charge of seven boys between the ages of eight and eleven, who were playing the Mouse King’s army. They were stuck in a small dressing room with three cubicles under the theater, where Taako was somehow supposed to keep them quiet enough not to be heard in the audience and _also_ get them into their costumes and into the wings in time for their cue, during the tech rehearsal today and the performances tonight and tomorrow.

Oh, and keep them all alive. That seemed relevant.

So far it was not going well. There was a lot of shrieking and running around and throwing foam mouse tails happening, and Taako didn’t know how to make it not be happening. The stage manager had already stuck her head in and said they could hear the boys on stage. Taako had told the boys that, but they didn’t seem to give a shit.

Taako tried to think of what he’d given a shit about when he was those ages. That was almost the exact span of time that he and Lup had been passed from relative to relative,school to school. He’d been learning to cook, to sew, to make himself useful. In hindsight, he also had been a huge fucking pain in the ass, because he had basically no autonomy and the one thing he could reliably do was be annoying.

Maybe, if he gave these dumb kids something to be in control of, they wouldn’t be so goddamn annoying.

“Okay!” he said, and if the boys didn’t fall silent, they did at least all turn to look up at him.

“Don’t you guys think these walls are, like, super boring?”

The kids glanced at one another.

“I think they need new wallpaper.” Taako’d been left with some toys and art shit for the kids, and he pulled out a ream of printer paper and a 64-pack of crayons. “I think we should make them new wallpaper.” He sighed and added, “It’s just a shame there’s so much area to cover. There’s no way we can get all the walls covered by the end of the rehearsal.”

“Wanna bet?” said one of the boys, about as shittily as he could in his squeaky little voice.

“Nah, little dude, there’s just no way.” Taako had to fight to keep the laughter out of his voice. His plan was going according to plan.

Three of the boys had already snatched paper from him and were bickering over crayon colors. One of the eleven-year-olds eyed him suspiciously. “Can we draw _anything_?” He asked, a note of challenge in his voice.

“Yeah, man. It’s _our_ space.” Taako didn’t really _want _the kid to draw boobs or gore or whatever was implied by that “anything,” but honestly, as long as he was doing it quietly, who gave a shit?

“You have to help, too,” another kid said.

“Sure thing.” Taako sat down on the floor with the boys and grabbed a green crayon. He set to drawing a horse, maybe a unicorn—no, a _binicorn_. The boys were fidgety and chattery, but they weren’t screaming or trying to hit each other, so Taako was going to take that as a W.

They all sat like that for almost fifteen minutes without incident. Then, the eleven year old—the same one who’d challenged him about what they could draw—said, “You’re glittery.”

“I am,” Taako confirmed. He looked at the kid’s paper. He was drawing a Transformer, thank God.

“Why are you glittery?”

“Makeup,” Takko said. “Taako’s gotta look just a little better than everyone else, you know?”

“_I _wanna be glittery,” said one of the other boys.

“Are you serious?” Taako asked, pulling his backpack closer to him. In among his books and snacks and homework, he always carried some extra makeup, for touch ups or adding drama, when that was called for. He produced a small container of cosmetic glitter and turned it in his fingers so it caught the light. “Cause if you’re serious, we can make that happen.”

Taako was putting glitter on an eight year old boy’s cheekbones when Kravitz came into the dressing room from behind him.

“Jeremy,” he said, and Taako nearly dropped the glitter, he was so startled. Then he nearly dropped the glitter again when he saw Kravitz in that coat, blue with gold edging, and tight enough to stop someone’s heart. “Oh, uh, Taako. I didn’t know you were here. Are you- are you in the show?”

“Nah, man, I’m a babysitter. And make up artist, apparently.”

The boy on the counter grinned.

“It’s not exactly traditional for mouse soldiers to wear glitter,” Kravitz said, but there was a smile in his voice.

“Don’t worry, kemosabe, I’m putting it on his face, not his mask.”

Kravitz laughed, and Taako’s heart skipped.

“Didn’t you have a question for the little man?”

“Oh, yeah, uh, Jeremy? Did your mom sign that allergy form? Ms. Istus wants it.”

“It’s in my backpack,” Jeremy said, and scrambled off the counter and around the corner.

And then they were alone.

“So,” Taako said, and then stopped when he realized he didn’t have anything clever to follow it up with.

“So,” said Kravitz.

_When are you going to ask him out? You’re never shy about making a move when you have a crush._

The thing was, this didn’t feel like a normal crush. Taako never got this nervous when he liked a guy. He was usually pretty fucking confident, and with good reason. Nobody he’d asked out in two years had turned him down, and the only reason they’d said no back then was because his gaydar was still shit.

But Kravitz—well, Kravitz was gorgeous, wasn’t he? He was maybe the only guy Taako had ever met who was hotter than he was. And talented. Multi-talented, if Magnus was to be believed, and that was usually a good idea. If Taako asked him out, he wouldn’t shrink and blush and be flattered the way the other boys did. Kravitz probably had people throwing themselves at him left and right.

If Taako asked Kravitz out, he might say no.

And that was scary. Taako didn’t generally do scary.

But then, Taako didn’t generally babysit, either.

“Hey, uh, Kravitz?”

“Yeah?”

“You doing anything between tech and the show?”

“I mean, I was going to get dinner with my moms, but—“

“You want to hang out? I know a cool place downtown, walking distance.”

“Uh, yeah. That’d be cool, actually. Hey, Jeremy, thanks!” He took the paper from the kid, who clambered back up onto the counter.

“Richard’s next,” Jeremy told Taako.

“Great. Great. Um, Krav, meet you in front of the theater? After tech?”

“Yeah.”

A note chimed over the speaker, and Kravitz said “I have to get back.”

“Right. See you.”

“See you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say again how much I appreciate all the comments and kudos this story has gotten. I'm so glad it's resonating with people. You're all amazing and ily!


	19. Chapter 19

It must have been below freezing outside, despite the sun, and Taako burrowed into his big puffy winter coat. It was like fifteen years old and used to be yellow before fading to an ugly brown, and it did not match the aesthetic that Taako cultivated, although when it was a little less frigid out he could let it drape down his shoulders and almost make it look intentional. It was too cold for that now, though. Taako nestled his chin down so that the coat’s collar covered his ears and jammed his gloveless hands into his pockets.

Taako half expected Kravitz not to meet him, but there he was, with a big black overcoat hanging open over his street clothes. He smiled at Taako as he approached, and Taako’s heart flopped. Which was dumb.

“Where are we going?” Kravitz asked.

“It’s a surprise.”

“But it’s walking distance?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t over-tax the star dancer. Your moms would kill me.”

Taako led Kravitz to his absolute favorite place downtown. It wasn’t normal first date (zeroth date?) material, but it _was_ nearby, and a decent way to kill the two hours they had.

Kravitz squinted up at the sign. “The Chug and Squeeze?”

“Yeah. It’s, uh, it’s like a pottery place. Like a make-your-own pottery place.”

“Cool.”

_Okay, he hates it. Too late to back out now, though!_ Taako pushed through the doors, releasing a burst of warm air, and he sighed. Even if this went badly, at least he wouldn’t be cold.

“This,” said Kravitz, “is not what I was expecting.”

“What did you expect?”

“I’m not sure. A thrift store?”

“Hey, there’s more to Taako than you see on the surface. I’m multidimensional!”

“I see that now.” There was a hint of laughter in Kravitz’s voice. “So, how does this work?”

“They have pottery classes here, but we don’t have that kind of time, so we’re just going to paint pre-thrown pieces. Come over here.” Taako led Kravitz to a bit of the front room where several shelves held plain white and terra-cotta ceramics. “They fire them for us, and we pick them up later.”

“Okay.” Kravitz still didn’t seem totally convinced, but he selected a white mug, turning it over in his hands.

Taako grabbed his usual—a tiny bowl, the cheapest option the place had, but also good for holding fancy spices—and got the woman behind the front desk to set the two of them up at a table, with paint palettes and brushes.

“So,” Kravitz said, when they were settled, “babysitting?”

“Yeah. Your mom asked me to do it, actually.”

“Which mom?”

“Raven.”

“Ah. So ‘asked’ isn’t exactly the right word.”

Taako laughed at that, and it came out high and nervous and not especially cool. “Did you really think I was a dancer?”

“I mean, sort of? I feel like I would know if you—if one of the fencers started at a dance class, but at the same time, I’ve seen you fence, and you already move like a dancer. You’re really graceful.” Kravitz cast his eyes down to his plate. “That came out weird. I haven’t been watching you, like, creepily or anything, I promise. It’s just, I’m at the studio all the time, and—”

“Nah, man, it’s chill. I—I’ve seen you dance, too. You’re, like, really good.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re in the junior company, right? Does that mean you’re going pro?”

Kravitz let out a startled laugh. “No, although my moms would love it if I did. Dancing’s just a hobby.”

“What about your art, then? Magnus says you’re excellent.”

Kravitz looked at Taako, then. “How does Magnus know if I’m good at art?”

Whoops. Think fast. “I don’t know, man, I think he just saw you drawing at some point. You’ve always got that big sketchpad and, you know, Magnus is into all that art shit, too.”

“I didn’t know. I’ll have to talk to him about it.”

“Yeah. So, like, what do you want to do?” Taako cringed. What a basic fucking question, _what do you want to be when you grow up?_ He sounded like someone’s aunt.

To his surprise, though, Kravitz looked away, back at his plate. “It’s—it’s kind of weird. Don’t laugh at me, okay?”

Oh, this was interesting. “Course not, my fella!”

“So I—I want to be a mortician, like for a funeral home.”

Despite his promise, Taako burst out laughing. “Fuck, dude, that’s goth as hell!” When he noticed Kravitz’s stricken expression, he added, “It’s fucking awesome! Like, is that a career you can even do?”

“Yeah, there’s like certificates and apprenticeships and—listen, I know it’s weird, but—”

“No, no, it’s so cool! How do you even think to do that?”

Kravitz smiled at him, kind of sheepishly, and Taako’s heart stopped. If he didn’t kiss this boy soon it might literally kill him.

“When I was like twelve or something, a one of my moms’ friends died. They were devastated, but the guy at the funeral home—he made sure they were okay. He made death not scary anymore, and like, that’s what I want to do. Make death less scary.”

“Thus all the skulls you wear.”

“Pretty much.” Kravitz let out a breath, sat up a little straighter. “So, uh, those are all my hopes and dreams. What about you?”

“I’m gonna be a chef.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, man! Is that surprising?”

“I just—I don’t know you as well as I thought I did, I guess.”

“Well, that’s why we’re talking now!” Taako jostled Kravitz with his shoulder.

“Y-yeah. Right. So, uh, you cook?”

“Sure do. I’m great at it, too. I’m looking at this crazy cool program at Neverwinter U that’s like, the chemistry of cooking? Like molecular gastronomy and shit.”

“What does that even mean?”

“You like, fucking, extract the flavors of shit and make them into different shapes. I’ll send you some videos, it’s super weird and cool as hell.”

“It sounds awesome,” said Kravitz, genuinely. “So is that, like, a done thing? You’re definitely moving to Neverwinter”

“Nah, man. I don’t even know if I’m in yet. And then I’ll have to see if Lup gets in, although obvi she will. Whatever college we end up at, we’re going together. We’ve got a plan where, like, we’re getting a dorm together if the school has co-ed housing, or else we’ll get an apartment off campus.” Taako sighed. “I can’t wait to get out of this shithole town.”

“I’m staying here,” said Kravitz, quietly.

“Shit, man, I didn’t mean—”

“I know. But I’ve already got some credits at the community college, and it seems silly not to finish there. Plus my mom knows someone in town who can set me up with an apprenticeship.”

“Well,” said Taako, “your moms are cool. Which, like, hell yeah, good for them and also you, but you know.”

“You live with your grandfather, right? Is he not cool?”

Taako snorted. “Not only is my grandfather not cool, he like actively sucks the cool from everything around him. Like, remember the Halloween party? When I fucking Cinderella-ed you with my hat? He’s the reason I had to bail.”

“That sucks,” said Kravitz.

“Yup. But whatever. I’m almost out of here.”

“Cheers!” Kravitz lifted his mug, and clinked it against Taako’s bowl.

The next hour flew by. Kravitz laughed at all of Taako’s jokes—as he should, Taako was hilarious—and had interesting opinions about books they’d both read and tv shows they’d both watched. They’d both had a bit of a crush on the cute, posh boy on the last season of The Great British Baking Show, and both thought the goth lady had been robbed. Kravitz told him stories about the weird classes he’d taken with homeschool groups, and in return, Taako regaled him with tales of the horrors of public high school. Kravitz wasn’t the best painter—the black birds he painted around the rim of his mug turned out misshapen and blobby—but he seemed to actually have a good time with it. The sun and moon Taako had painted in his bowl turned out perfectly, of course.

And then it was time for them to leave.

Taako buried himself back in his coat, bracing himself for the bitterness outside. It was dark out, now, and probably even worse than the walk over. Kravitz watched him bundle up with that same amused light in his eyes. His own coat was unbuttoned, and his scarf hung loose around his neck.

“Aren’t you freezing?” Taako asked as they left the store.

Kravitz shrugged. “I don’t really get cold.”

“Lucky asshole.”

Kravitz snorted and stuck his hands in his pockets.

They walked for a while in silence. The clouds were thick overhead; it looked like it might snow. Taako considered how risky it might be to put his arm through Kravitz’s. He wanted to, but the whole thing seemed too precarious, like if he moved, the moment would shatter.

Then Kravitz turned to him, and said, “Taako, I want to know—”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you ask me to hang out tonight? Like, was this a friend thing, or?”

“Yeah, I mean, like, a bit? I, you know, I like your style, and I wanted to get to know you better. If you want, though, this could be a not-friend thing. Not—not like an enemies thing—”

Kravitz laughed. “I think I know what you mean.”

“Good, because I'm losing track of my words, here.”

“Yeah.”

They’d stopped walking, were standing there together in the pooling light of a streetlamp.

Kravitz looked up. “It’s snowing.”

It was. Just a few, light flakes, drifting down and landing on their shoulders. One caught in Kravitz’s eyelashes. Taako was having trouble remembering that he needed to breathe.

“It’s beautiful,” Kravitz said.

“Yeah.” Usually, Taako didn’t like the snow. It was cold, and wet, and it got in his boots and ruined his hair. But now, here, alone on this street with Kravitz, he saw that it was graceful, too, soft and quiet. “Beautiful.”

Kravitz took a step towards him.

Taako didn’t back away. He looked up at Kravitz, taking one pink hand out of his pocket and placing it on Kravitz’s arm. 

Kravitz looked at his hand, then at him. “Taako,” he said, voice low, “I—”

“TAAKO!”

They both jumped and turned around to see Barry, red-faced and out of breath, running up the sidewalk toward them. “Taako! And Kravitz, right? Hi! I’m glad I caught you.”

“Barold.” Taako tried to communicate the words, _what the fuck are you doing here,_ telepathically, but Barry didn’t seem to get the message.

“Hello, Barry.” Kravitz’s tone was light and polite, and totally different from the one he’d just been using.

“I was just doing homework in that coffee shop over there, and when I got up to leave, there you two were! What a coincidence, right?”

“Yeah,” said Taako, “it’s wild. I just can’t get over how wild you being here right now is.”

“Are you two going to the theater? I was going to see if there were any tickets left tonight. I want to support the studio, you know?”

Kravitz said, “That’s really good of you. Yes, we’re headed back to the theater.”

“Awesome! Mind if I walk with you?”

“Of course not,” said Kravitz, and Barry fell into step with them. The three of them made small talk all the way back to the theater, with Taako silently fuming the whole time. He was trying not to be mad at Barry, who hadn’t meant to do anything wrong, but it was hard. This opportunity to talk to Kravitz alone had basically fallen into his lap, and he’d wasted it. Now he’d probably have to engineer another time himself, if he wanted to kiss Kravitz. And he really, really wanted to kiss Kravitz.

“We’re going in through the stage door,” Kravitz told Barry, when they got to the front steps of the theater. “If you want tickets, go up that way.”

“Thanks, guys!” Barry bumped fists with both of them. “Break a leg!”

And then they were alone again—but Kravitz was checking his watch. “I’ve got to run. If I’m not on time, I don’t even want to know what my moms will do.”

“Yeah. Can’t do _The Nutcracker_ without the Nutcracker.”

He chuckled, and made to leave, but then hesitated. “Taako, it’s—I’ve had a lovely evening. Do you think—do you think we might do this again sometime?”

“For sure, my dude!”

“Great. Um, bye.”

“Adios!”

And Kravitz turned and went inside.


	20. Chapter 20

Lup didn’t exactly like her orchestra class. Ms. Marlow wanted them all to preform Great Classic Works, and the other kids only wanted to do action movie soundtracks, neither of which were exactly Lup’s_ thing._ But being in the class meant the school leant her a violin for the school year, one she got to take home and do whatever she wanted with, which made the whole ordeal worth it.

Still, she wasn’t quite proud of her achievements in the class, so although she didn’t keep her winter recital a secret, she also didn’t invite any of her friends. Taako came, of course, but that was supposed to be it. Her grandfather certainly wouldn’t be there.

The recital was fine—she played well, even if she didn’t have the best material, and nobody fucked up bad enough that she was embarrassed to be on stage with them. When it was over, there was a whole lot of hugging and cheering and enthusiasm that she didn’t quite feel, but was willing to get swept up in nonetheless. Taako found her and hugged her, and some of the kids invited them both to get ice cream.

Lup was being pushed slowly but inexorably toward the door by the crowd when she almost literally ran into Barry. He was wearing a collared shirt tucked into his jeans, and he was grinning.

“Lup!” he said. “You were amazing!”

“Uh, thanks man! Don’t take this the wrong way, but like, why are you here?”

“You said you had a recital tonight, and I thought I’d come support you. Is that—is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course. Dude, that was really sweet of you!” Lup stood on her tiptoes to hug him, just lightly.

Barry hugged her back, just lightly.

From up closer to the door, Taako shouted, “Lup, come on! Cha’boy wants ice cream!”

Lup rolled her eyes, but stepped away from Barry. “Sorry. I’ve got to go.”

“It’s chill. I’ll, uh, see you Wednesday.”

“Yeah. See you Wednesday.” And Lup pushed forward to catch up with her brother and her classmates.

“Why can’t this wait until tomorrow?” Taako whined half an hour later, as Lup let them back into the still-unlocked school. “It’s just your rosin, and Taako needs his beauty sleep.”

“The janitor won’t know what it is. He’ll throw it out, and Ms. Marlowe said if I lost my rosin one more time—wait.” Lup grabbed Taako by the shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. “Do you hear that?”

Taako paused, listening. “Yeah. Spooky.”

It _was_ a little spooky in the half-darkened lobby, but Lup recognized the sound as someone playing piano. Beethoven’s _Moonlight Sonata_, specifically, a haunting and lovely piece, spilling out of the auditorium. She pushed the doors open silently and peeked inside, with Taako right behind her.

There, on the empty stage, was Barry Bluejeans. He didn’t look up when they snuck in—he didn’t seem to notice that anyone was there. He swayed a bit as he played, hands moving slowly but precisely. Lup suddenly couldn’t breathe. She was frozen in the doorway, transfixed by the music and the intensity of his focus.

Barry’s playing did not have the same effect on Taako, who, after a moment of surprise, went barreling down the central aisle of the auditorium, calling, “Barold! My man!”

Barry’s head snapped up, and his hands fell to his lap. “Taako, hey. Hi, Lup.”

She raised her hand.

“What—what are you doing back here?”

“Lup lost her rosin,” Taako explained. “We’re here to look for it.”

“Oh. Cool.”

“I didn’t know you could play piano, dude.”

Barry’s face, which had been pink since he saw them, now turned a vibrant crimson. “I, uh, I don’t really. I sort of play _at_ piano, ya know?”

“It sounded pretty legit to me.” Taako had reached the stage by this point, and clapped a hand on Barry’s shoulder.

“Thanks.”

Lup hurried to join them while trying to make it look like she wasn’t hurrying. “He’s right,” she said when she reached them. “You’re pretty good. We should play together some time.”

“I don’t know about that,” said Barry, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, you actually practice this stuff, and I—“

“Barold, chill,” she told him. “I’m not saying we should preform for a million people or anything, just like, get together and jam.”

His shoulders loosened a bit, and he smiled at her. “That would be cool, actually.”

“Cool.”

“Cool,” Taako said. “Now can we find this rosin before I die of old age?”

———

Lup was pink-faced and shivering when she stepped into the lobby of Legato Hall, Faerun University’s music building next weekend. It was frigid out, and supposed to snow that evening, per the app on Barry’s phone, but Lup wasn’t wearing a winter coat. She just wore a too-big men’s blazer (with a flower embroidered on the pocket, because it was Lup) over a flannel shirt. She didn’t have any gloves on, and her knuckles looked red and chapped. Barry, who had been waiting for her, sprang to his feet, his cheerful greeting dying on his tongue when he saw the state she was in.

“Lup, are you okay?”

Lup shrugged. “It’s cold out, but it’s whatever. It’s just a long walk.”

“You _walked_ here? How far away is your house?”

“Not far. Just like two miles.”

“Two _miles?_ Lup, it’s like twelve degrees outside!”

She shrugged again, and Barry sort of wanted to punch something. Instead, he said, “Please let me drive you back.”

“Whatever. You got us a practice room, right?”

“Uh, yeah. We’ve got room 203.”

Barry sat anxiously at the piano while Lup rosined her bow and tuned her violin. Her knuckles were cracked-looking from her walk in the cold. There was a fear coalescing in Barry’s stomach, one that he couldn’t name yet. 

“Okay,” she said, eventually. “How are we doing this?”

“I think we start with something simple. Like—” He plunked out the first four notes to Frere Jaques.

“Right. Cool.” Lup echoed the notes on her violin.

He played the next line, and she echoed that too. They alternated through the rest of the song, slowly, deliberately. After the last “ding ding dong,” Barry said, “Should we try to play it together?”

Lup nodded. “Count us down, Maestro!”

“Okay, um, one, two, ready, go!”

They played through the song, together this time, and they didn’t sound terrible. They looped right back into the beginning, and played it through twice more before Barry realized he was playing on his own. He glanced up at Lup, who was grinning. She mouthed _keep playing_ at him, so he did, and when he reached the second line, she started playing the first one. A round, then—he should have known that’s what she had paused for. They played _that_ three times through, and then Barry repeated the last line so they could end together, and they both held the last note for the exact same amount of time. There was a moment of breathless silence as the last note dissolved in the air—and then they both broke into giggles.

“Fuck, Barold,” Lup said. “We make those old-ass nursery rhymes sound _good_.”

“Yeah we do!” said Barry, copying her tone, which made them both crack up again.

When they were both breathing somewhat normally, Barry said, “You want to try something a little more complex? I googled piano and violin duets and found a couple that looked interesting.”

“Sure thing, broski.”

They had the practice room for an hour and a half, and they played the whole time. They fucked up plenty, pausing every now and then to go back over tricky parts or to laugh at how badly Lup’s violin had squawked or by how much Barry had missed a note, but given that they were playing music that was new to both of them, with a person who was new to each of them, Barry thought they sounded pretty damn good.

Lup seemed to agree. “We don’t suck at this,” she said when they reached the end of the third piece.

“It’s astonishing,” Barry said.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Bar. You’re playing with me, so of course you sound good.”

“You will let me drive you home, right?” Barry asked as they made their way toward the lobby.

“If it means that much to you,” said Lup.

He was about to say that it did when he noticed a familiar face in the crowd outside one of the lecture halls. Art fucking Goodfriend. Barry’d mostly managed to avoid him since coming here, but he’d forgotten Art was a music student. He willed Art to keep his eyes on his phone, to not notice them, but of course that’s not what happened.

“Barry!” Art called, looking up. “Barry Bluejeans! I’ve barely seen you since high school. What the fuck is up, dude?”

“Hi, Art,” Barry said, flatly.

“Who’s your friend? Dude, are you going to be around when I’m done with class? We should totally get coffee, catch up!”

Barry didn’t want to tell Art anything about Lup. He’d made a very similar mistake in high school and it had wrecked a good chunk of his senior year. And he definitely, definitely didn’t want to get coffee with him. But he also didn’t want to look like a dick in front of Lup and all these strangers, so he just stood there, tongue tied.

Lup put a hand on his arm and said, “Actually, we’re kind of in a hurry right now. Maybe we’ll see you around!”

“Yeah, yeah, sure thing,” Art said, and Lup steered Barry out of the hall and into the lobby.

“Who was that?” she asked, quietly.

Barry sighed. “Art Goodfriend. We went to high school together.”

“And you hate him,” Lup guessed.

“Pretty much.”

“Why?”

“Well, there’s a lot of shit. Art was in my friend group, although we weren’t really ever friends, and he always wanted to be in everyone’s business. But the big thing happened last year—fuck, just like six months ago, I guess. I had this crush on another guy in the group, Brad, and Art knew about it. It was kind of an open secret, I guess. But anyway, prom was coming up, and Art—” Barry had to pause. He hadn’t expected the memory to hurt so much. He was way over Brad at this point, and all the drama over prom had seemed silly and adolescent even at the time. And yet…

_Barry, Brad told me that he wants you to ask him to prom._

Lup said, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, no, it’s cool. Basically, um, Art told me that Brad wanted me to ask him to prom. So I did. And Brad said no, because he’d never said anything like that to Art, and I was really fucked up about it, and everything was awkward and terrible in the friend group for like a month.”

“Jesus,” Lup said. “That’s fucked up.”

“Yup. Art apparently just thought we’d be good together. And he doesn’t even seem to notice that I’m mad at him.”

“You’ve got to be mad more loudly,” Lup told him.

“I’m not good at doing things loudly.”

“I’ll be mad at him loudly for you, if we see him again.”

“Thanks.”

They stepped out of the building and into the parking lot.

“Fuck, it’s cold,” Lup said, sticking her hands under her armpits. “I almost forgot.”

“Do you want my scarf? I’ve got another one in the dorm.”

“Nah, it’s okay.” Lup walked quietly beside him for a bit, and then said,  “So, you’re into dudes?” There was something odd and hesitant in Lup’s voice as she asked the question, which was surprising. Given that her twin brother was the most openly gay guy Barry had ever met, he hadn’t expected her to be weird about queerness. Oh well. 

“I’m bi,” he told her. “Sorry, I keep forgetting who I have and haven’t come out to. Moving’s a pain.”

“I feel that so much,” Lup said. Her voice was a little lighter now, and she added, with almost artificial-sounding casualness, “While we’re coming out, you should know that I’m trans.”

“That’s super cool,” Barry said, and then immediately cursed himself because that sounded super creepy and probably fetishistic and she’d think he was gross, and there was no way to explain that he thought her being trans was cool because _everything _about her was cool without making it obvious that he was like super fucking in love with her, which was probably also creepy and—

“It _is_ cool,” Lup said. “Which one of these is your car again?”

“Uh, that one.” He unlocked his shitty white Toyota and let her in. “Thanks for letting me drive you home.”

“Thanks for driving me. I feel like all I do is have you drive me places.”

“I don’t mind. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go, any time.”

“Aww.” She jostled her shoulder against his. 

“I mean it. Especially while you don’t have a real coat. I don’t want you to get sick.”

“What, afraid I’ll pull a Magnus and spew all over your car?”

“A little,” Barry admitted. He couldn’t string together the words to say, _I just want you to be happy, I want to be the reason you’re happy_, without being very weird, so he left it there. 

Lup grinned. “Alright, chauffeur, take me to my chapeau!”

“Do you mean chateau?”

“I said what I meant, Bluejeans. I’ve got an excellent hat awaiting me at home, just begging for some new trimmings.”

Barry laughed, and pulled out of the parking lot. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just FYI, I'm travelling next weekend, so although I intend to still get a chapter up on Sunday, the timing of it might be a little weird.
> 
> Also, holy shit, I can't believe yall have stuck with me through twenty chapters! I appreciate you all so much <3 <3


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like to soundtrack your fics, this chapter is set to MIKA's Tomorrow.

Magnus and Julia were making out in the backseat of Julia’s car at an overlook somewhere between Raven’s Roost and Faerun. Julia was supposed to be driving him home but, well, they’d gotten a little sidetracked. 

They broke apart long enough for Julia to pull her shirt off. In the moonlight, her skin seemed to glow with a soft amber light, and Magnus marveled for the millionth time at how lucky he’d gotten. “You’re so beautiful,” he said. 

Julia crossed her arms over her stomach. “You don’t have to say that,” she said. “It’s enough that you like me.”

This was not the response Magnus had expected. “What are you talking about?” he asked, genuinely confused. 

“I know I’m not hot,” Julia said, and she was using what he’d begun to think of as her presidential voice, the one where she projected total control of her emotions. “It’s okay. Not all of us are born with, you know, conventionally attractive body types. And a person’s worth isn’t based on her attractiveness, anyway. It’s enough that you like me. You don’t have to lie to make me feel better. Really.”

For a moment, Magnus was struck completely dumb by the absolute falseness of this statement. He’d never known Julia to be so entirely wrong about anything before. And once he got past the puzzlement, his whole heart broke for her. Who had told her that she wasn’t beautiful, just because, what? She wasn’t a size two? He wanted to hit someone. 

Instead, he shook his head. “Jules,” he said. “Julia. When we met, at that tournament, and I saw you across the gym, you were the most gorgeous person I’d ever seen in my whole life. And that’s still true. I know you now, and I know you’re _also _brave and compassionate and brilliant and just, like, the single fucking coolest person on the face of the earth, and that’s why I’m in love with you. I don’t want you to think I’m shallow—“

Julia was still looking down, but she snorted. 

“—but before I knew any of that, I knew you were just _astonishingly_ hot. And I’m not lying about that.”

Julia tightened her arms around her stomach. Her face was hard to make out in the shadows, but Magnus could see her shoulders shaking. 

“Oh, Jules,” he said, “Come here.”

He opened his arms, and she went into them, burying her face in the curve of his neck. Her tears were hot and wet against his skin. He held her there until she stopped shaking and pulled away. 

“Sorry,” she said. “I’ve totally wrecked the mood.”

“Don’t even worry about it. I’m here for you, Jules. I’m always gonna be here for you.”

She kissed him, lingeringly, and then all at once sat back. “You said you loved me,” she said in an almost an accusatory tone. “And I didn’t even address it!”

“Yeah, well.” Magnus's face was suddenly burning. “You don’t have to.”

“No, no, don’t get me wrong, I love you too! I just can’t believe you beat me to saying it out loud!”

Magnus laughed, relief flooding over him like water. “You’ve gotta be faster than that to beat Magnus!”

Julia poked him in the side. “One of these days, I’m gonna ask you to marry me, and then how will you feel?”

“Delighted,” Magnus said, and kissed her. 

There weren’t any more interruptions after that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a super short chapter, and I'm sorry about that, but it's been WILD here and what writing time I've had has gone to my Hannukah ficlet series. 
> 
> But! Two of the ficlets are set in the Touché-verse! So if you go read those it's basically like having a full-length chapter. You can find em here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21907633/chapters/52290103


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW death and child abuse
> 
> I've given y'all a lot of fluff in a row but alas! It cannot last.

“Barry,” the boy on the other side of the table said, “why have you brought _children_ into the library?”

They were in a group study room in the library of Faerun University, stocked with pale wooden chairs and a dry erase board (but no markers). Angus was perched in one of the chairs, holding a legal pad and a fancy pen and with a serious expression on his face. Mavis had her laptop out in front of her on the conference table. She raised an eyebrow at the boy—presumably Lucas Miller, resident engineering prodigy and person-who-probably-knew-Lucreita—but didn’t say anything. She knew that saying she wasn’t a child wouldn’t make her look any more mature.

Angus, brilliant as he was, hadn’t quite internalized that nuance yet, so he said, “We aren’t children, sir. And we have some questions for you.”

The boy, who was pointy-chinned and congested-sounding, kept his eyes on Barry. “What is this all about?”

“You agreed to talk to them, Lucas,” Barry said, tiredly. Mavis got the sense that the two of them didn’t particularly like each other. “Are you going to go back on our deal?”

Lucas rolled his eyes. “Fine. Whatever. You rugrats wanted to ask me some questions?”

Angus waved his hand toward one of the empty chairs with a self-possession that Mavis admired. She was trying to project maturity and professionalism, but being called a “rugrat” like she was some kind of 90s cartoon character rankled. Probably, she thought, she was on Barry’s side of whatever disagreement these two had.

Lucas sat, propping his elbows on the table.

Angus sat forward, mirroring his posture. “We’re looking for information about a person your mother used to work with.”

Lucas blinked. “You’re awfully small to be with Homeland Security or whatever.”

Homeland Security? Mavis glanced at Angus, but if this surprised him, too, he didn’t show it. “We’re conducting a private investigation,” he said. “Did you know a Lucretia Badar when you were growing up?”

Lucas’s expression darkened, and he turned back to Barry. “Is this some kind of prank?”

“No, sir,” said Angus. “It’s just an investigation. We know Lucretia and we want to learn more about her, particularly her past.”

“_Why_?”

“We think she might be hiding something.”

“And so you thought you should ask me about her.”

“Yes? From our research, it looked like she and your mother were close. We were hoping you could tell us more about her.”

“I—I can’t fucking believe this.” Lucas looked from Angus’s earnest face to Mavis’s drawn one, mouth open. “This is bullshit. I’m not going to tell you anything.”

“Please, sir, if you would just—”

“No. Nope. I have shit to do today. I can’t—Barry, why didn’t you tell me what this was about?”

Barry’s forehead furrowed. “What’s going on, Lucas?”

“You brought these _fucking kids_ here to _interrogate_ me about the woman who_ got my mother killed_—” Lucas stood up and planted his palms on the table, looming over Angus and Mavis. “You want to know about Lucretia? Go talk to Cam, or what’s left of him. Then maybe you’ll see what kind of person you’re dealing with.” He snatched Angus’s pen and paper out of his hands and scribbled down a phone number. He threw the pad on the table with a tremendous thwack, said, “See you in class, Barry,” and stalked out of the room.

The three of them sat in stunned silence for a moment.

“Well,” Barry said, eventually, “that’s not what I was expecting. Sorry, guys, if I’d known he would react like that— I mean, I knew he was prickly, but—”

“To be fair,” Mavis said, “we did bring up his dead mom with basically no warning. I’m not surprised he reacted badly.”

Both boys nodded.

“On the other hand, he called us ‘rugrats’ before we’d done anything wrong. So fuck him, anyway.”

Barry snorted.

“He wasn’t completely unhelpful,” Angus said, picking up the notepad. “We can contact Mr. Cam now.”

“‘What’s left of him,’” Mavis said in what she thought was a good imitation of Lucas’s nasal voice.

“Yeah, that was ominous,” Angus said. “Whatever happened, it must have been really bad.”

“I mean, we knew that. But still. Homeland Security.”

Angus nodded. “He was joking, but the fact that he’d even think to joke about that—we knew this happened when they were doing journalism abroad, but maybe it was a serious International Incident.”

“You’d think there would be more information about it available if that were the case, though.”

“Not necessarily. Maybe it got covered up.”

“Fuck,” Barry said, making Angus and Mavis jump. They’d half-forgotten he was there. “That sounds really intense. Are you sure you two should be looking into this on your own?” Before they could respond, he grimaced and said, “Christ I’m getting old. That made me sound like an ineffectual authority figure in a YA novel. Just—be careful, guys, okay?”

“Of course,” Angus said.

“We’re not stupid,” Mavis said.

“Exactly. And if there’s anything I can do to help—”

“We’ll hit you up,” said Mavis.

Barry held out his hands to fist-bump both of them. “Do you guys need a ride home?”

Mavis shook her head. “Merle’s coming to pick us up. I’ve got to text him, actually. Assuming he reads his texts, he’ll be here soon.”

\------

Merle did see his texts eventually, and after about an hour, he did come and collect Angus and Mavis from the university. Just as Barry was waving them off, his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was Lup. 

_ Lup: Can’t meet you for music tomorrow :( I’m SUPER grounded _

_ Barry: Grounded? What happened _

_ Lup: My grandpa’s pissed at me. Nbd, just annoying_

_ Barry: Ugh, ur grandpa._

_ Lup: Right? I did lowkey earn it this time tho_

_ Barry: ???_

_ Lup: Taako was late getting home and gpa was mad, so I fucked with him to distract him, but i did it too well lol_

_ Barry: Lup, that’s fucked up_

_Lup: _ ¯\\_( ツ )_/¯

_ Barry: I’m serious!!! He shouldn’t do that to you or Taako! _

_ Lup: It really is whatever. Taako’s fine so idc. I’m just mad we can’t hang out. _

_ Barry: Is there anything I can do? _

_ Lup: Aww, my knight in shining armor <3 no, just text me? He forgot to confiscate my phone so I’m just chilling ~_

_ Barry: Of course!_

It definitely made him a bad person to get stuck on that heart in her text when everything in her life was so shitty, but it snagged on him like a briar and didn’t let go. 

He kept texting her, mostly nonsense about his classes, and she responded with her own nonsense, and neither of them mentioned her grandpa again. Barry couldn’t stop thinking about it, though. Lup got herself deliberately grounded to protect Taako—from what? She walked to campus in the snow in a blazer and no gloves. He’d seen her huge, gorgeous house, and suddenly connected that to the way Magnus bought her and Taako snacks when they were out, the fact that they were still borrowing equipment from Davenport even though they’d been fencing for years. 

It was a frightful picture. Lup was being neglected by her grandfather. She was _scared_ of him, and Barry had hardly noticed. He was the world’s worst friend, basically. 

But maybe there was something he could do. Barry has no idea what that something was, but Magnus would—he’d been friends with them for basically ever. So he texted him. 

_ Hey, do you know what the deal with Lup and Taako’s grandfather is?_

Magnus replied almost immediately. _Ughhhhhh hate that guy_

_ Barry: Yeah no kidding. _

_Magnus: What happened this time?_

_ Barry: Lup’s grounded. Apparently she was keeping Taako from getting in trouble? She was telling me this sort of thing happens a lot. _

_ Magnus: fuuuuuuuuck is she ok?_

_ Barry: She seems grouchy but resigned? Like she thinks this is normal._

_ Magnus: Barold. I have been trying to convince her that this shit isn’t normal FOR YEARS_

_ Magnus: welcome to the team_

_ Barry: That really sucks. _

_ Magnus: yuppp_

_ Barry: Is there anything we can do? I want to help._

_ Magnus: I’ve talked to the twins about getting cps involved but they insist that this is better than what they’d get w any of their other relatives, and they don’t want to be forced to move again_

_ Magnus: so_

_ Magnus: I sit here in impotent rage :)))_

_ Magnus: like I said, welcome to the team_

_ Barry: How tf is this better???_

_ Magnus: their grandpa uses lup’s correct pronouns, lets taako dress however, pays for fencing. Its the barest fucking minimum but per them its better than anyone else _

_ Barry: That’s horrifying. We can’t just let this happen_

_ Magnus: well. Tell me if you have any good ideas_

_ Magnus: that’s not a joke btw, i’m open to any ideas_

_ Magnus: other than beating their grandpa up, which I keep suggesting and they keep turning down._

_ Barry: Jesus. _

_ Magnus: yeah. All we can really do is be their friends. Let them know we love them_

_ Magnus: which you do, at least_

_ Barry: “At least”_

_ Magnus: Make sure they eat enough and have pain meds and ice packs, etc. give them a place to sleep over when they need it. _

Barry blinked at his phone. He wasn’t sure he’d read that correctly._ Pain meds and ice packs????_

_ Magnus: Oh fuck, she didn’t tell you???_

_ Magnus: I shouldn’t tell you if she didn’t tell you that’s their shit to disclose_

There was ice in Barry’s stomach. 

_ Barry: He hits them._

There was a long pause, and then Magnus texted,_ mostly he hits her_

_ Magnus: it’s only happened a handful of times. But. Yeah. _

_ Barry: I’m going to kill him. _

_ Magnus: welcome to the team. _


	23. Chapter 23

Taako and Lup burst through the door of the dance studio, uncharacteristically late but super-characteristically dramatic. 

“Guess who’s legal!” Lup crowed, kicking one leg as high in the air as she could without disturbing the covered dish in her arms. 

“We come bearing cake pops!” Taako said with equal enthusiasm. 

Magnus shot to his feet. “Cake pops! Also, happy birthday!”

The twins deposited their plates on the coffee table in the waiting room, on top of dance magazines and costume catalogs. Lup called, “Kravitz! Come get some sugar!” and dissolved into giggles as Taako put her in a joking headlock, his ears a brilliant pink. 

Magnus pulled to foil off the plates and everyone pressed forward to take the pops, which were covered in pink and orange icing and edible glitter. “Make sure Barold gets one of the pink ones,” Lup said from over Taako’s shoulder. “They don’t have any dairy in them!”

Barry smiled, watching them. It was so strange to see them like this, ebullient and goofy, with the knowledge he now had. Was it genuine? If he were in their situation, he was sure he’d be sad all the time, but they didn’t seem to be faking this emotion. Could they be joyfully and sad at the same time?

It was possible, Barry thought, that he still didn’t know them well enough to tell. 

Taako broke free of the group and went to Davenport, who was standing by the wall, smiling at them all. “For you,” Taako said, “our mentor, our teacher, our fearless captain who we would follow into any danger, we humbly present,” he pulled a colorful bit of paper out of he sleeve with a flourish, “a chance at millions.”

Davenport stared at the one-dollar lottery ticket in his hand. “Why?” he said, a little helplessly. 

“Just be glad we didn’t buy you cigarettes,” Lup said. “_We’re eighteen, motherfuckers!_”

Kravitz came in from the other room. “I heard my name?”

“Cake pop,” Taako said, holding one out to him. “You said you wanted to try my cooking.”

“Our cooking,” Lup said. 

Taako waved a dismissive hand at her. 

Kravitz accepted the cake pop and took a bite. He chewed for a moment, and then said, quietly, “What the fuck.”

“I know!” Magnus said from the couch. “They’re geniuses!”

“You’re not kidding,” Kravitz said. He said something else after that, but Barry didn’t hear it because Lup had come up beside him. 

“You better get one of these before they’re gone,” she said, handing him a pink cake pop. 

“I was going to wait until the kids cleared out,” he said, accepting it. “But thanks. And thanks for making ones I can eat.”

“Of course! It wouldn’t be a party without our favorite Bluejeans.” 

Barry could feel himself turning pink. “I, uh, I got you a present. You and Taako. Can I steal you both for a minute?”

“Aww, of course! I love presents! Taako!” 

Lup went to extricate Taako from the others, while Barry went to his fencing bag and pulled out two flat boxes. He’d spent more money on their presents than he’d meant to (he was, after all, a starving student), but he'd seen them in a store window downtown and, well. He had to. 

He led Taako and Lup into the back room where the spare costumes and fencing equipment were kept. “Happy birthday,” he said, handing them each a box. 

They both tore the ribbons off with equal abandon. Lup was slightly faster getting the box open, and when she saw its contents, she pressed a hand to her mouth. “Bar, this is—I can't accept this.”

“Course you can.” Taako had gotten his own box open, and pulled out its contents, a pair of fleece-lined gloves made of soft, forest green leather. Lup’s were the same, except hers were a deep wine red. Taako stuck his hand into the glove and admired the way the leather molded around his fingers. “Fits like a glove!” he declared. 

Barry laughed. Lup rolled her eyes. 

“Seriously, though,” Taako said. “Thank you.” He held out his hand for Barry to shake, and when Barry took it, pulled him into a hug. Barry hugged him back, and for the first time, it occurred to him to be worried about how skinny Taako was. 

“Fucking get in here, Lup,” Taako said, and Barry held out an arm to her, and Lup pressed herself into them, laughing. “Thank you,” she said, quietly, right next to Barry’s ear, and he thought that maybe he was going to die.

It was a good thing that exertion made Barry red in the face, so that everyone expected him to be blushing during warm-ups and didn’t question anything. He ran in circles around the room with the rest of the class until the buzzing in his chest and arms settled. The energy in the room was high overall—sugar and nonsense making them giggle at the slightest thing—and so Davenport let them do fun exercises. They practiced ballestras and did blind fencing in pairs, and got to the actual bouts faster than usual. “The birthday kids get to pick their partners,” Davenport announced. “Lup, you’re up first. Who are you fighting?”

Lup glanced at Barry. “Barold?”

“Yeah, for sure.”

“Taako, you’re on deck, with—?”

“You down, McDangus?” Taako asked.

“Yes, sir!” Angus said, going up on his tiptoes for emphasis. 

Barry scooped up his mask and foil, and headed for the strip, grinning. He loved fighting Lup. He still couldn’t beat her, maybe never would, but that didn’t matter—he had _fun _fighting her. She was fast and clever and dramatic, and she threw herself wholeheartedly into every bout. She loved fighting, and you couldn’t help loving it too, fighting her. Barry always found himself working a little harder, thinking a little faster, when paired with her. 

So they saluted and put on their masks. Barry settled into the en garde position and looked at Lup. She stuck her tongue out at him. He laughed right as Davenport called, “Fence!” and had to scramble to keep up with Lup, who had definitely made him laugh on purpose to gain the advantage. He parried her first and second attacks and finally got enough space back to reposte. She parried, too, fainted high and hit him in the stomach. One point to her. 

She got the second point, too, and then an off-target on his leg, but he finally was able to catch her blade in a big enough parry and do an effective reposte. It wasn’t pretty—he wouldn’t be getting any compliments from Davenport on that one—but fuck, it worked. Barry wasn’t as fast as Lup, but he knew her pretty well by now, and sometimes if you could see a trick coming, you could counter it without being fast. And sometimes you couldn’t. 

Like, Lup did that feint-high-hit-low thing _all the time_, so Barry could assume that if she was aiming for his chest, he should parry two, but that involved a lot of thought and hand-eye-coordination in a short amount of time, and if he parried two too far out, she could either stick with or switch back to his four, and then he was dead anyway. Thus the big ugly circular parries. Lup was fast as hell on her feet, though, and so that might save his ass but it rarely got him points. Honestly, Lup could move up and down the strip so fast that her weaknesses—which she did have—almost didn’t matter. So what if she didn’t threat before she lunged, you wouldn’t have a chance to hit her before Davenport called halt. So what if her bladework was kind of sloppy sometimes, she was out of reach before anyone could take advantage of it.

But Barry was better at fighting Lup than he used to be, and, after a lot of off-targets and a lot of giggling, he found himself quite unexpectedly tied with her four-four. He couldn’t remember ever getting that many points on her before. She flashed him a knife-sharp grin from behind her mask, and he smiled back, eyebrows knitting in concentration. Davenport called fence and they both sprang forward, Lup with a ballestra and a beat, Barry with a disengage and a lunge that she parried effortlessly, and then they backed up and ran at each otheragain and Jesus Christ, this was what it felt like to be alive. 

Lup jammed her shoulder forward, lunging with her elbow still bent, and in an impulsive instant Barry counterattacked instead of parrying, and got her right under the collarbone, just as she hit him in the side. Davenport called the halt, and they froze there, holding their lunges. Barry was breathing hard, sweat dripping into his eyes. Lup’s eyes were locked on his side.

Then Davenport said, “Priority left,” and both of Barry’s judges said, “Yes,” and the point was his. 

Lup tore off her mask before anyone could say another word and had her arms around Barry’s neck, sword abandoned on the floor. Barry let his own sword clatter to the ground and hugged her back, laughing. 

“You brilliant bastard,” Lup was saying. “I cannot _believe_ you fucking got me like that.”

“I just got lucky,” Barry said, and she elbowed him in the ribs. 

“You fucking deserved it, Bluejeans.”

Barry was going to say something else self-deprecating, but instead he just closed his eyes and hugged Lup tighter. 

———

On the other side of the room, Magnus slipped away from his judging spot and over to where Taako was leaning on the barre. “Okay,” he said, “you’re right.”

“Damn straight,” Taako said. “I want chocolate ice cream, and I want it with rainbow fucking sprinkles.”

“You got it, bro. A bet’s a bet.”


	24. Chapter 24

Taako loved surprising people, and so watching Kravitz’s face when he walked into the studio in a Thursday afternoon was just fucking delightful. 

“Taako,” Kravitz said, standing up. His dreads were tied back, and his striped tank top hung loose over his wiry frame. “What are you doing here? There’s no fencing today.”

“I know. I, um. I’m taking a dance class.” It had taken some doing to get himself into the adult beginning ballet class, without alerting his grandfather or Kravitz. Istus had been a big help—because he’d been fencing at the studio for years, she was willing to let him try the first couple classes for free, and then if he continued, said she’d add the price of his dance classes to the fencing bill without saying anything. He was pretty sure his grandpa wouldn’t notice the number changing, but an additional bill would kick up a fuss. 

She’d also agreed to not tell her son, although she’d given him a weird look when he’d asked. To be fair, it was a weird request. 

She’d kept her word, because the confusion on Kravitz’s face was very real. “W-why? Not that I’m not delighted to see you, but like—”

“Well, you said I’d be good at it. So. Here I am.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, man!”

“You’re here—because of me?” Kravitz’s voice got quieter, and Taako took a step towards him. 

“I am. Are you—is that cool?”

“It’s very cool. Taako, what the fuck?” He was grinning, looking at Taako with an almost silly kind of joy. Taako recognized it, because he felt that way looking at Kravitz, too. 

“I wish I could hang out and watch,” Kravitz was saying. Taako shifted his focus from Kravitz’s face to Kravitz’s words. “I have to help teach the little kids tap class.”

“Oh.” Fuck. 

“But they get out at the same time, so we can maybe hang out after?”

“Oh! Yeah, uh, that’d be awesome!”

“Great! I, um, I’ve got to go but, uh, good luck on your first foray into ballet!”

Was Taako losing all perspective, or was Kravitz’s use of words like “foray” just super endearing? “Thanks, my fella!”

Kravitz hesitated, then held out a fist for Taako to bump. Taako did. 

It turned out that ballet was really fucking hard. Like, Taako had known that ballet was abut bending your body in ways that it didn’t want to bend, but he hadn’t thought it would be _that_ bad. Fencing was also a lot of balancing in weird, unnatural positions, so he’d thought he was prepared.

He was not prepared. 

Granted, without the years of fencing under his belt, he would have done way worse. He didn’t fall over, at least. It was a beginner class, but everyone else had been in it since August, and knew a tiny bit of what they were doing. Taako did not. 

Istus was a patient teacher, though, and the other students, who ranged in age from fourteen to sixty, were broadly pretty cool. None of them seemed, like, _super_ cool, no one he’d go out of his way to make friends with, but they weren’t dicks. Nobody laughed when he wobbled by accident, and everyone laughed when he wobbled on purpose. 

And Taako had always liked dancing. He and Lup had been jumping around various living- and bedrooms to music since they were ambulatory, and more recently, had taught themselves some ballroom steps from youtube videos, so they could look dramatic at Avi’s parties. Ballet was way more regimented than that, but it was fun. At the end of the class, his legs ached and he’d sweated through the armpits of his shirt, but he wanted to come back. He hadn’t expected that. This was a grand gesture to impress a boy; it wasn’t about the dancing. He was halfway through his senior year, not the best time to find a new hobby.

Although, arguably, it was not the best time to find a boyfriend, either, and here he was trying to do that. 

Speaking of, here was Kravitz, emerging from the next room. He looked considerably less disheveled than Taako, which was just unfair. 

“Hey, dude,” Taako said. “How were the kids?”

“They’re like hungry sharks,” Kravitz said, tiredly. “I survived them, though. How was ballet?”

“Fucking difficult. You should have warned me!” 

Kravitz laughed. “I could have, but nobody really believes it until they try. Are you coming back?”

“I think so.”

“Awesome.”

“So, uh. Unfortunately, I don’t have a whole ton of time to hang out today, but will you walk me to my bus stop? Unless you have another class.”

“No, I’m free.” Kravitz unhooked his coat from the rack by the door and threw it over his shoulders, leaving it hanging open over his tank top and sweatpants even though it was like twenty-five degrees outside, which was fucking absurd and Taako hated it. 

Except, you know, he didn’t. 

Taako, for his part, zipped himself into his terrible puffy coat, jammed his hands into his shiny new gloves, and offered Kravitz his elbow to take, all gentleman-like.

Kravitz laughed and took it. “Lead the way.”

Taako did, shouldering his way into the cold. It was only five, but it was already fully dark. Kravitz’s hand tightened on Taako’s arm as they were hit by a blast of freezing wind. 

“Are you going to be okay taking the bus in weather like this?” Kravitz asked. There was a furrow between his eyebrows.

It was sweet of him to worry. “Yeah, man, I’ll be fine. It’s warm on the bus, and I only have a short walk on the other end. And you’ll keep me warm until the bus gets here, right?” Which was way, _way _more openly flirtatious than Taako sort of meant to be, but fuck, he’d said it now! 

Kravitz removed his hand from Taako’s elbow, and Taako’s heart dropped, but Kravitz just wrapped his arm around Taako’s shoulders. “Of course,” he said. 

“So, what’s with your sharks?”

“Huh? Oh, the kids? They just have so much energy. And they barely have control over their bodies but they pay way more attention than you think they do, so when _you_ fuck up, they make so much fun of you.”

“Did you fuck up?”

“Only a little. I’m not a professional.”

“No,” Taako said, drawing out the vowel sound. “You’ve just been doing this, what, your whole life?”

“Yeah, but, like, to be fair, I haven’t been alive that long.”

“No shit? You’re not some billion-year-old deathless entity?”

Kravitz laughed. “Indeed not.”

“Pff, ‘indeed not.’ No, you’re just a grandpa.”

Kravitz ducked his head. “I—”

“I like it,” Taako proclaimed, before Kravitz could be self-effacing. “It’s elegant.”

“Elegant,” Kravitz repeated. One of his dreads had come loose from his ponytail; he tucked it behind his ear. “I’ll take that.”

“Good. We’re here.” They’d reached the street corner near the studio with the bus stop. There wasn’t a covered awning or even a bench, just a metal sign with the bus schedule bolted to it behind foggy plastic. 

“I didn’t even know there was a bus stop near the studio,” Kravitz said. 

“I’m not surprised. Your moms seem like they’d be willing to drive you places.”

“Yeah, or they let me borrow one of their cars. Your grandpa doesn’t drive you places?”

“Nah, he’s always working, and we only have the one car.” He also couldn’t stand to be reminded of Taako and Lup’s existence long enough to drive them someplace, but that was way too pathetic to say to someone you were flirting with. 

“That sucks.”

“It’s not too-too bad. At least the busses are pretty reliable. And I live near some of my friends, so.”

“Where do you live?”

Taako told him.

“No shit! I’m just a few blocks from you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck, dude, you should come play amtgaurd with us this weekend!”

Predictably, Kravitz asked, “What’s amtgaurd?” And so Taako explained it, and told a couple funny stories about the shit his friends had pulled while playing, which made Kravitz laugh. Jesus, all Taako wanted to do was make Kravitz laugh. Kravitz promised to come that weekend. They talked a while more, but eventually, the city bus rounded the corner. 

“That’s my bus,” Taako said, unable to keep the disappointment out of his voice. 

“Cool. Cool. I’ll, uh, talk to you later, I guess.”

“Yeah.” And then Taako had an impulse. He was not generally impulsive—he left that shit to Magnus—but he _did _love surprising people. He stretched up in his tiptoes and kissed Kravitz on the lips, just lightly. A super fast peck, although you wouldn’t guess that from the way it warmed his whole body. Had he thought it was cold out? It was fucking springtime. 

But there was no time to linger, or the bus really would leave without him. “Bye!” He called, a little breathlessly, and then he jumped on the bus. 

As Taako took his seat, he watched Kravitz through the window. Kravitz looked shocked, which was the intended effect. He lifted one hand to his face, touching his lips wonderingly. Taako grinned, and then, without meaning to, mirrored the motion. He couldn’t help it. He’d kissed Kravitz! His whole body felt made of light. 

He felt like a damn middle schooler. 


	25. Chapter 25

Later that evening, Taako was trying to take notes on his deeply boring history reading when his phone buzzed with a text from Kravitz.

_Hey, can we talk?_

For a split second, Taako was wracked with nausea and the certainty that Kravitz hated him. But like, that was silly. He’d been all blushy and cute just a couple hours ago. He didn’t know any of the reasons that a person _actually _might hate Taako, and so probably he didn’t. Still, no time to waste. Taako snatched up his phone and called Kravitz.

Kravitz answered almost immediately. His phone had probably still been in his hand. “Taako!” he said, all cheerful.

“Hey, my fella. That was kind of an ominous text you sent there, huh?”

“What? Oh, shit, I totally didn’t realize it could come off that way. I didn’t mean to—”

“No worries. Just, you’re lucky cha’boy has such a strong constitution. I could have had a heart attack right there, and then you’d never get to tell me whatever the thing is you want to talk about.”

“Yeah, that would be, uh, less than ideal.”

“So? What did you want to talk about?”

Kravitz let out a nervous chuckle. “I, um, I just thought—like, you kissed me today.”

“I did,” Taako confirmed.

“And I just wanted to know, like, what that meant? Or if it meant anything?”

“Did you want it to mean anything?” Taako knew he should have just said yes—that was the truth—but he didn’t want to be the first one to say it. All the signs pointed to Kravitz being into him, but signs could be wrong. Kravitz was a legitimately kind dude; he could just be being polite. No way was Taako going to be vulnerable unless he was sure it would turn out for him.

“I—I did,” Kravitz said.

Taako could have lifted into the air, he was so goddamn happy. “Well, good,” he said, “because it did. I, you know, I think you’re pretty cool.”

“I think you’re cool, too. And I’d like to keep hanging out with you. And like, _go _out with you, if you’re down with that.”

Taako couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face. “Hey Kravitz?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”

He could hear a matching grin in Kravitz’s voice when he said, “I guess I am.”

“Then I guess I’m saying yes.”

“Awesome. Great. Yes, fantastic.”

Taako took a deep breath, as subtly as he could. “So are we still on for Amtgaurd on Saturday?”

“It’s a—it’s a date!”

“Fuck. It is!”

“Okay, I have to—my mom’s calling for me, but I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Yeah, talk to you soon.”

“Uh huh. Bye.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.” And Kravitz hung up.

Taako sagged back in his desk chair, joy and relief washing over him in equal measures. His respite was short-lived, however.

“So,” Lup said from behind him. “Boyfriend?”

Taako swiveled in his chair to face her. _The Great Gatsby_ and a green highlighter lay abandoned beside her on her bed, and she was wearing a smirk he’d seen too many times before.

“Yup,” Taako said, keeping his voice nonchalant.

“You know what I’m going to say, right?”

“It’s never stopped you from saying it before.”

Lup threw a pillow at him. “I fucking _told you so_, you dumbass! Didn’t I tell you _months _ago?”

“You did,” Taako conceded, throwing the pillow back.

“And now you have a _boyfriend!”_

“I do.” Taako covered his face with his hands. “Oh my fucking God, Kravitz is my boyfriend!”

Lup was hugging him. He hadn’t even heard her stand up, but here she was, arms around his shoulders, cheek pressed against his. “I’m proud of you,” she said. “My emotionally constipated baby brother has a boyfriend!”

“Oh yeah? And what’s all your so-called emotional intelligence doing for _your_ love life?” But he hugged her back. There was a lot about this that was going to be complicated and weird and difficult, but fuck that. Kravitz had asked him out. He was allowed to be uncomplicatedly happy, for just a minute.

Saturday was unseasonably warm, humid and breezy, the kind of day you couldn’t help enjoying even if it did portend the end of the world. When Taako and Lup got to Magnus’s for Amtgaurd, he was outside, staring up at the clouds.

“You good, my man?” Taako asked.

“Yeah. No, I was just—those clouds are intense.”

Taako looked up. The clouds were threatening, dark grey and knotted, but they were also far off on the horizon. The sky above them was clear blue. “Let’s hope they don’t blow this way, then.”

Lup said, “Magnus, is Julia coming today?”

“Yup! We’ve got a full house!”

“Sick. I’m going to have to fight her, though, because she’s been hogging the Berserker every time she comes here. Her or Mavis. I want a turn.”

“Maybe we can do, like, a new kind of battle that involved passing it around.”

“Oh, that’s compelling! What are you thinking?”

“Well—”

As Magnus and Lup strategized, Taako tuned them out, staring down the street. Kravitz would probably be on foot, since he lived in the neighborhood, but he could show up from either direction. It was early, still. There was Carey’s shiny sports car, turning down the road, and Julia’s, and Barry’s. There was Merle’s truck, dropping off Angus and Mavis as usual. The field was full of teens and foam weapons, laughter and nonsense. And still no Kravitz.

“Do you feel bad for making fun of me about Julia yet?” Magnus asked, putting a hand on Taako’s shoulder.”

“Never,” Taako said. “This is a completely different situation.”

“It is the exact same situation.”

“Agree to disagree.”

“Taako—oh shit, there he is!”

Taako could not _believe_ Magnus noticed Kravitz before he did, but fuck, there he was, waving cheerfully from the end of the block. Taako waved back. “Hail and well met!” he called.

Kravitz laughed and ran the rest of the way to the field. He gave Taako a one-armed hug, and bumped fists with Magnus.

“Let me introduce you around,” Taako said. “These rapscallions are Carey, Killian, and Noelle. They go to St. Ioun’s, but don’t worry, they’re actually pretty cool. This is Julia, she’s Magnus’s girlfriend, and she goes to Raven’s Roost High.”

“Am I cool?” Julia asked.

Taako tilted his head, pretending to consider the question. “That’s debatable.”

“She’s way better than cool,” Magnus said. “She’s amazing.”

“Gross,” Taako said. “Guys, this is Kravitz. He’s homeschooled, and um, he’s my boyfriend.”

“Nice,” said Carey, looking Kravitz over. “You fence?”

“No, I, uh, I dance at the same studio where they fence.”

“Sick.”

Taako said, “I think you know everyone else.”

Kravitz put his face _very_ close to Taako’s ear and whispered, “I don’t know their names.” He indicated Angus and Mavis.

Taako adjusted his hair to hid the tips of his ears, which were definitely crimson, and said, “Oh dip, you’re missing out! Krav, this is Angus McDangus and Mavis the Mighty Mouse. They’re the only cool short people I’ve ever met.”

“I’m twelve, not short, sir,” Angus said. “It’s nice to meet you!” He held out a hand to Kravitz, who shook it, looking like he was trying to decide if it was appropriate to laugh.

“I am short,” Mavis admitted.

“I won’t hold it against you,” Kravitz told her.

Taako gave Kravitz a quick run-down of the rules, with everyone else interrupting to provide what might generously be called clarification, and then they got started with a team. There were eleven of them, so the teams weren’t even, but then Kravitz barely counted as a player yet. He died pretty much immediately, taken out by Noelle, but Taako avenged his death. Then Lup got one of his arms and Julia finished him off, which, those two should _not _be allowed to fight on the same team.

They reset, this time doing teams of two. Taako partnered with Kravitz, obviously, and they made an alliance with Carey, Killian, and Noelle, the one team of three. The five of them swept the field, taking out everyone in their path, until their only remaining competition, Barry and Magnus, were backed up against the fence. Kravitz darted froward and got Barry in the stomach, his first actual kill. Barry slumped back against the fence, all dramatic, and looked up at Magnus. “We’ll get ‘em next time,” he said, and then cast an arm over his eyes, “dying.”

Magnus laughed, and Taako did, too. He may only be mediocre at Amtgaurd, but Barry was getting better at goofing around with them.

Then Magnus stabbed Noelle and Carey stabbed Magnus, and the truce was broken. Killian killed Kravitz almost immediately, but she and Carey had to work hard to take down Taako. They had the numbers, though, so it was only a matter of time.

They reset. Killian wanted to do a ditch battle, but Julia said that would be unkind with a first time player, and they were still debating the issue when a brilliant flash of lightning split the sky, making them all jump. It was followed, moments later, but a roll of thunder, and then the sky broke open. One second was merely humid, and the next it was pouring. They all bundled up the weapons and booked it to Magnus’s porch, where he fumbled with the keys a minute before letting them inside.

Lup let an armload of foam swords fall to the living room floor with a damp _fwump _and asked, “What now?” Magnus said, “I’ve got some games, if you guys want to keep hanging out.”

“I love games,” Kravitz said. “What do you have?”

“Just basic shit.” Magnus pulled a basket out from under a side table and started unpacking its contents, reading out the names as he did. “Jenga, Set, Monopoly, Uno—”

“I am un-fucking-beatable at Uno,” Lup said, cutting him off.

“That’s interesting,” Kravitz said, pleasantly. “So am I.”

The others “oooh”-ed.

Barry said, “Yeah, I wanna see this. Cause the thing is, I’m actually pretty good at Uno, too.”

“Taako, you wanna join?” Lup asked.

Taako looked at the three of them, at the competitive energy that was practically crackling off them, and said, “Yeah, Taako’s good out here.”

Magnus set an elbow on Taako’s shoulder. “Want to help me pick out snacks?”

“Sure thing, dude.”

The two of them headed for the kitchen, navigating around where Mavis and Angus were setting up a Jenga tower, and past Carey, Killian, Noelle, and Julia, whose game of Spot-It looked to be every bit as intense as the Uno game.

“Mom has plain popcorn,” Magnus said. “If I make that, can you make it taste interesting?”

“Who do you think you’re talking to? Of course I can!”

“Hell yeah.”

Magnus started the popcorn in the microwave, while Taako raided the pantry for other foods. He pulled out a six-pack of applesauce cups and a bag of salt and vinegar potato chips.

“Nice,” Magnus said, and then, “Kravitz seems to be getting along with everyone.”

“Yeah.”

“He’s a cool guy.”

“He sure is.”

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m like, really fucking happy for you, dude.”

“Thanks. I—thank you.”

Before Magnus could say something soppy—or worse, get Taako to say something soppy—the microwave dinged. Taako dumped the popcorn into a bowl and dressed it simply with brown sugar and cayenne pepper. Magnus took a handful, and sighed. “What am I gonna do when you’re at college?”

“Put sugar on your own damn popcorn. It’s not hard.”

“It would just never occur to me.”

Taako rolled his eyes. “Come on, dingus. Let’s feed our friends.”

They presented the popcorn to much ooh-ing and ahh-ing. The chips got less fanfare, but Carey tore into them anyway. The applesauce cups were mostly ignored until Kravitz picked one of them up. “What is this?” he asked.

Everybody turned to look at him.

“It’s—it’s applesauce,” Taako said.

“Oh, neat! I’ve never seen it come in a little cup like this before!”

Taako just gawked at him. Lup said, “What the fuck are you _talking _about, man? That’s how applesauce is!”

Kravitz put up his hands. “I’ve just never seen it!”

“How do you eat applesauce, then?” Mavis asked, a challenge in her voice.

“I don’t know, just like, normally? You cut up some apples, put them in a pot, and cook them? My moms usually keep a container in the fridge, and when I want some, I just, like, put it in a bowl.”

“That’s _wild_,” Carey said. “You really are a home schooler!”

“Is that a home schooler thing?” Taako asked. He was still kind of reeling.

“As far as I can tell,” Carey said. “Lucy Boyland used to make her own applesauce, before she started at St. Iouns.”

Killian said, “Man, I miss Boyland,” at the same time that Magnus said, “I’m _so_ glad Boyland’s gone.”

“Hey!” Carey said. “Don’t talk that way about our girl, Boyland!”

Noelle asked, “Have either of you heard from her since she got kicked out?”

Carey and Killian shook their heads.

“Who’s Boyland?” Kravitz asked.

Magnus explained, “She was the third person on the St. Ioun’s fencing team before Noelle, and she was a _total dick_.”

“She was,” Taako agreed, sitting down next to Kravitz on the carpet.

Lup asked, “How’d she get kicked out, again? Nobody’s ever explained it to me.”

“That’s cause nobody knows,” Carey said. “There’s a ton of rumors though.”

Killian said, “The most credible one I’ve heard was that she got caught smoking one too many times.”

“Really?” said Noelle. “Her roommate told me she got pregnant and her parents pulled her out of school.”

Carey said, “Either way, it’s an ignoble way to get kicked out of school.”

“And you would know,” said Magnus.

“I would know,” Carey agreed, toasting Magnus with the chip bag.

“Sorry,” Julia said, “but can I have some context?”

Killian slung an arm around Carey’s shoulders. “Our Carey here has been kicked out of—how many was it? Four schools?”

“Five,” Carey said, grinning. “Twice by accident, three times on purpose. St. Ioun’s is my eighth school.”

Taako counted on his fingers. “That’s more schools than we went to, Lup.”

“Shit,” said Lup.

Julia leaned forward, grinning. “How do you even get kicked out of five schools?”

“Sometimes, it’s enough to kiss a girl,” Carey said. “That one tends to get the girl in trouble, too, though, so I’ve only done that by accident.”

“That sucks,” said Kravitz.

“Yup! Okay so that was the second time I was kicked out, when I was in sixth grade. The first time was when I was I fourth grade, at this super conservative private elementary school. I stole a condom out of my teacher’s purse—I didn’t know what it was, I thought it was candy—but when another teacher found me with it, my teacher wouldn’t admit it was hers, and so I was expelled for bringing contraband onto campus.”

“Nobody believed you?” Julia asked.

“My parents did, but they thought it was a fitting punishment for me stealing.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“No kidding. And then I fell for this girl in seventh grade, and we got caught making out under the bleachers, and you know the rest. In eighth grade, I started to cause problems on purpose. This school was all, abstinence only, if you have sex you’ll get pregnant and die, et cetera, so I did what anyone would do. I hacked the school email and pretended to be headmistress, and sent everyone links to comprehensive sex ed videos. And also to some porn. And I may have changed the senior staff’s profile photos to pictures of vaginas. You know, normal student stuff.”

Taako snorted.

“Okay, so that’s three,” Julia said. “What’s number four?”

“Number four was freshman year of high school. This one is stupid, but I was pulling pranks left and right, and the thing that finally put me over the top was organizing a thing where we all covered the school sign in our bras. It was my idea, but everyone was in on it, so no one was going to tell. Except this one girl got cold feet at the last minute so I _did _sort of steal one of her bras. And she got pissed and told the teachers, and because I had such a shitty record, I was out. My parents put me in military school for sophomore year, which it turns out is _really _hard to get kicked out of. I hated it, and I spent the whole semester trying and failing. I had detention pretty much every day, but they wouldn’t let me leave.”

“But then one of my friends fell off the climbing wall and got a concussion, and they wouldn’t even give her an extension on the final exams, so I just said, fuck it, and she and I and two of our other friends snuck out and drove to a motel two towns over, and camped out for a week until exams were over. We left our phones at school so they couldn’t find us.”

“Holy shit,” said Julia. Her eyes were huge. “Did you get caught?”

“Yeah, eventually. But I didn’t have to go back, which is the important thing. I _do_ lose my college fund if I pull anything else like that, but I’m not gonna. St. Ioun’s is alright, and I like the people here.” She leaned into Killian’s shoulder, and Killian laughed.

“We like you, too, Carey.”

They all played board games for the better part of two hours, until the rain finally let up. Lup, Barry, and Kravitz were still mid-Uno game, and it looked like they’d keep playing forever, if Magnus had not kicked them out. (Apparently, he and Julia were going to do homework together, although Taako suspected it would be more like doing _“homework”_).

“Can I walk you home?” Taako asked Kravitz.

“If you want. I know it’s out of your way.”

“I do want.”

“Cool. Then yeah. I’d love that.”

They walked together, down the quiet, rain-slicked streets of their neighborhood. Taako took Kravitz’s hand, and Kravitz didn’t object. They talked about school, and applesauce, and what Kravitz thought of Taako’s friends. Finally, when they were pretty close to Kravitz’s house, Kravitz said, “I noticed what you said back there, about you and Lup going to a number of schools. Can I ask why?”

They’d gone to seven schools, counting Faerun High, because they’d been unwanted, passed from disdainful relative to disdainful relative, until they finally wound up with their grandfather, who usually didn’t notice they were there long enough to disdain them. But that was kind of heavy, so Taako edited the story down. “Our parents died when the two of us were pretty little,” he said.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s chill. After they were gone, there was some custody shit that took a while to resolve, so we lived all over. I’m _very_ worldly.”

Kravitz laughed, a little awkwardly.

“Don’t worry about it, man. I’m here to stay, now.”

“Until you go to college.”

“Yeah,” Taako said. “Until I go to college.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for discussion of transphobia. It's pretty brief, but still, be kind to yourselves.

It was finally finished.

Magnus inspected Birds in Flight from every angle. It looked good, if Magnus could say so himself. The statue was of three ducks taking flight from the surface of the pond, with streams of water connecting them to the base. It had almost overbalanced while he’d been carving it, and he’d slotted in some reeds carved from a different piece of wood that connected the wing of the highest bird to the base a little more firmly. The goal was for it to look weightless.

He wasn’t sure when making this thing had gone from something he was doing to humor his mom to something he was serious about, but he fucking loved these ducks. He’d spent hours and hours trying to get their stupid little faces right, their rows of feathers even. If he didn’t love them, he’d have quit months ago. They weren’t perfect—honestly, all Magnus could see were their asymmetrical eyes and the uneven varnish on the base—but they were the best he could do, and he was proud of them.

And now he had to say goodbye to them. They were due to the Goldcliff College of the Arts by the 15th for judging, but tomorrow was the only day his mom could drive it up. Neither of them trusted it to safe if they mailed it, not even with layers and layers of bubble wrap.

So Magnus took photographs to remember it by, sent them off to a few friends, and set to cutting out bubble wrap.

Minutes later, his phone rang. It was Carey, and therefore probably not an emergency—she did sometimes call without texting first.

Magnus swiped to accept the call. “Yello?”

“Hey, Magnus! Is she finished?”

“Hey, yeah, she’s as good as I can get her.”

“Does that mean you’re open for commissions?”

Magnus laughed. “Only if you want a duck. I’m not sure I know how to make anything else anymore!” Carey snorted on the other end of the line, and Magnus grinned. “What are you after?”

“I’m—okay, so, Killian’s birthday is coming up, right?”

“Ohhhh.”

“Yeah. And I was hoping you could make her something cool from me. Like, maybe a puzzle box? One of those weird math things? It wouldn’t have to be super big or anything, just, you know.”

“I got you.” Magnus grabbed a pad of paper and a pencil from his work bench. “I’ve never made anything like that, but I think I could pull it off.”

“Sick! Do you have, like, rates or anything?”

“You can just pay me for the wood, I don’t mind.”

“Pssssh,” Carey said. “That’s bullshit. I’m paying you for your time. What’s the point of having rich parents if you can’t throw money at your talented friends?”

Magnus decided not to fight her on it. “Are you going to put anything in the box?”

“Um, maybe?” Carey’s voice squeaked a bit on ”maybe.”

“Tell me!”

“Okay, so like, okay, it’s not for sure yet but…”

“But?”

“But I’m maybe going to put, like, a note in there asking her out. Because then, like, it’s a cute thing but I also don’t have to be in the room to see her reaction.”

“Carey Fangbattle, are you seriously that scared?”

Carey groaned. Magnus heard a _frump_ sound that he assumed was Carey collapsing onto her bed. “I aaaaam!”

Magnus chucked. “Okay, I’ll enable you. But you can’t chicken out and give her the box without the note. If you do, I’ll go to your school and ask Killian out for you.”

“You’re so mean! But fine. Yes, I’ll do it. Will you make the box?”

“Of course! That’s what friends are for.”

————

Lup and Barry had run out of steam, practicing their duets. Barry loved to play with her, but after about an hour his hands would get tired and she’d stop to stretch her neck, and then they’d start talking, and that would be it for practicing for the day. They’d done this enough by now that when Lup paused to roll her neck and wrists, Barry just said, “Hey, do you want to grab some coffee?”

“Oh my God, yes!” 

So they headed for the university coffee shop. The place tried to style itself like a jazz club, with dark painted walls and red leather bench seats ringing the walls. The jazz band did actually play there on Friday nights, not that Barry had ever gone. It was a Sunday afternoon, so the shop was packed with college kids hunched over laptops or taking notes from textbooks (or ignoring their textbooks while they scrolled on their phones). The only free table was in the corner, with two booth seats at a right angle. Lup went to hold it while Barry got their drinks. 

He handed her her coffee, and she clinked it against his. “Cheers.”

“Cheers!” 

She went to drink hers, and then jerked her cup away, sloshing a bit of the liquid over the side. “Jesus fuck, that’s hot!”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, just got some coffee on my goddamn jeans. What a mess.” Lup pulled napkins from the dispenser on the table and mopped up her leg. “I just hope it comes out.”

“What—what happens if it doesn’t?” Barry tried keep the fear out of his voice, but he didn’t know if this would be the kind of thing that could get her in trouble.

“I’ll go to school with coffee-stained jeans, and ruin my rep as the best-dressed girl in my class, and Taako will put on his fucking southern belle voice and go all, this is why you’ll never find a man, et cetera, et cetera.” She saw the expression on his face and laughed. “Don’t worry, Bar, it’s not dire.”

“I’m glad. Would Taako really do that, though?”

“What, tease his perpetually single sister? Have you met him?”

“It seems like a sensitive thing to make fun of someone about.”

Lup waived a hand. “It’s whatever. He knows what the boundaries are, and me never dating anyone is within them.”

“Wait,” said Barry, “are you serious?”

“Yeah?”

“You’ve_ never _dated?”

Lup laughed. “It’s not that shocking. It’s just how it’s shaken out so far.”

“Still,” Barry said. “I mean, I’ve also never dated anyone, but I’m a socially awkward disaster.”

“You’re not that bad,” Lup said. 

“Dude, you have no idea. The Barry you see before you is Barry two point oh, or really like five point oh. I used to not be able to talk to strangers _at all_. And people don’t stop being strangers if you don’t talk to them, so for a while I pretty much didn’t talk to anyone.”

“Fuck,” Lup said, “that really sucks.”

“It sure did. But you—you’re gregarious and funny and, like, beautiful. How come you’ve never dated anyone?” 

“Bad timing, I guess. I’ve never been into anyone at the same time as they were into me. Also, like, you know I’m not super feelings-y with people I’m not good friends with.”

“Sure.” That meant that even having this conversation was confirmation that they were good friends, which was incredible and also kind of sad. Which was dumb. He shouldn’t be sad about being friends with Lup. 

“So I mostly, like, I guess some people could have liked me back, but I didn't ask. I had some bad rejections, too, before my skin was thick enough to handle it.”

“What happened? If you’re willing to tell me. No pressure or anything.”

Lup sighed. “The first guy I ever asked out laughed at me. It was a big fucking joke to him, the idea that he might like, you know, a trans girl.” 

“Oh, Lup, I didn’t—“

“It’s whatever. His loss, right? Who needs transphobes like that in your life? But, you know, I was fourteen and squishy, and it hurt.”

Barry wasn’t sure what to say, so he just put an arm around her. She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“Dating would be too complicated right now, anyway,” she continued. “I’ve seen Taako try to date around our grandfather, and it just doesn’t seem worth it to me. Next year, when I’m out of this bullshit town and I have some goddamn autonomy, it’ll be over for all of you! Cuties of the world, beware!”

Barry chucked. “You’re gonna knock ‘em dead, Lup.”

“The Grim Reaper of love,” she agreed. “What about you? You’re in college. You’re hooking up with cute co-eds right and left, right?”

“God, can you imagine? No, I mean, I spend more time with you guys than with anyone I go to college with.”

“You better change that, Bluejeans.” She elbowed him lightly in the side. “How are you supposed to live that college movie dream when you’re hanging out with high schoolers?” 

“You mean I can’t do keg stands with Magnus?”

“God, that would be _amazing_.”

“Right? But yeah, no, I’m too boring for all that.”

Lup nestled closer into him. He was sure she could hear his heart pounding, but she just said, “You’re not boring, Barold.” 

“Aw. That’s super nice of you to say.”

“It is,” she agreed, “but it's also true. You’re, like, super cool. Not boring at all.” 

“Thank you.”

“I can tell you don’t believe me, but riddle me this, Barold—would I spend literally all weekend with you every week if I thought you were boring?”

Barry ducked his head. “I mean, if you thought it’d be the right thing to do—”

“I’m not nearly that nice. I promise you, I’m here for purely self-interested reasons.”

“Okay,” Barry said, laughing a little. “I’ll take that.”

She tucked her arm through his, and they sat there like that, leaning on each other and talking, until the shop closed and they had to go home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something incredible happened this week: Touché became the 100th most commented-upon TAZ fic on AO3. For perspective, it's currently number 1318 by hits (which is still the top 15% of TAZ fics, what the fuck!). It's so disproportionately commented on because I have THE BEST READERS IN THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE, and because you all have given me this gift, I wanted to give something back. I want to give you what you want! 
> 
> So, I'm taking prompts! Tell me in the comments or shoot me a message, and I will write a short fic based on your prompt. It can be anything you want--a character interaction, a trope, a bit of dialogue, an au of the au, a bit of backstory, whatever! On the off chance that you suggest something I'm uncomfortable writing, I'll message you and we'll work out an alternative. 
> 
> This offer is open until next Sunday, February 9th, at 11:59 pm (just so I'm not beholden to this for the rest of my life lol). I will write every prompt given me until then, on a work that I'll make the sequel to this one. I may not write them quickly, but I promise I'll write them all <3
> 
> Thank you all so much. You're incredible and I love you.


	27. Chapter 27

Barry usually spent Saturday mornings fast asleep, but here he was, braving the icy Synagogue parking lot and the frigid February air in his traction-less dress shoes. Only for Ango.

He’d only been to Beth Itzun Synagogue a few times. He didn’t go to services very much, and when he did, he went to the monthly ones his school’s Hillel put on. But he’d gone to the actual Synagogue for the High Holidays back in September, and for his grandfather’s yartzeit, which didn’t coincide with a Hillel Shabbat. It was a big, old building with stone walls and high ceilings. The sanctuary had been recently renovated, and was all dark, gleaming wood and purple velvet, but the fellowship hall still had 70’s-ass laminate flooring. It was a decent place, although Barry, who’d been raised in the Reform movement, found its Conservative-style services a little stiff. 

He found Taako, Lup, and Magnus loitering in the lobby, looking awkward. It was probably the first time any of them had been to a synagogue. They’d dressed up for it. Taako had on a paisley suit jacket, and although Lup’s dark purple dress was cut for a much older woman, she’d jazzed it up with half a dozen glittering, mismatched rhinestone brooches along the neckline. Magnus was dressed more normally in a white button down and slacks, although he’d rolled his sleeves up over his elbows. He’d also found a baby pink kippah somewhere, and had clipped it into his hair. 

Lup saw Barry first and waived him over. “You clean up well,” she said, looking him over. 

Barry tugged at his bowtie. “Thanks. You, uh, you look great too. Is Mavis here yet?”

Taako said, “No. She texted—Merle’s running late.”

“I think that’s her,” said Magnus, pointing out the glass doors. 

There, indeed, was Mavis, running across the parking lot. She burst through the doors and rushed over to the rest of them. “I’m here!” She said, a little breathless.

“You’re good,” Barry told her. “Almost no one’s actually sitting yet.”

They made their way to the sanctuary and chose a pew near the back. Barry did a quick explanation of the space—the bimah, the ark, the prayerbooks that opened backwards. He used to do this little speech for friends when one of them would get curious enough to come to shul with him in high school. It had been a long time since he’d flexed those particular muscles. 

When everyone was settled, Barry scanned the room for the Bar Mitzvah in question, but he couldn’t find Angus anywhere. “Has anyone seen Angus?”

The others gave him blank looks. “Should we have seen him?” Magnus asked. “Or is it like a wedding and he’ll, like, show up or something?”

“No, normally he’d be out here, hugging great aunts and stuff. Maybe he’s with his grandpa?”

Mavis said, “His grandpa’s right there, at the front.”

“Huh,” said Barry. “Um, if you guys don’t mind, I’m gonna poke around a bit, make sure he’s cool.”

“Do you want us to look with you?” Lup asked. 

“Nah, I’ve got it. I kind of know the building, so.”

Barry slipped out the back door of the sanctuary and though the lobby. He followed a side hallway past the fellowship hall, which was already set up for the luncheon after the service, and around a corner into what must be a Hebrew school. There were paper banners of hebrew letters, at least, which was a good indication. There were maybe eight doors lining the hall, all closed and with dark windows, except for the very last one, which was open and lit. 

“Angus?” Barry called. 

“I’m in here, sir.” The voice was Angus’s. He sounded strained.

Barry stuck his head though the open door. “You okay there, bud?”

Angus was pacing back and forth across the front of what appeared to be a preschool classroom. He was wearing a black suit and a shiny silver tie, and his forehead was tied in knots. He paused when he saw Barry. “Are they looking for me already?”

“As far as I know, I’m the only person looking for you.”

“Good.” Angus stuck his hands in his pockets. “Sorry if I worried you, sir.”

“You’re fine.” Barry sat on one of the toddler-height tables—all the chairs were too small—and said, “Are you okay with telling me why you’re out here instead of showing off to your family?”

Angus sat down beside him and sighed. “I’m just—there’s a lot of them.”

“Mm hmm.” 

“They only see me like twice a year, butI have something of a reputation. I’m—they think I’m smart.”

“You are smart.”

Angus shrugged. “I just don’t want them to be disappointed.”

“What do they have to be disappointed about? You know every word of the service fucking perfectly, and I’ve read your d’var torah. You’re going to knock their socks off.”

Angus laughed halfheartedly. “Okay, so here are things I’m good at: learning things, memorizing things, analysis, writing. Here are things I’m not good at:” He turned to look Barry in the eye with the kind of dramatic pause he must have learned from Taako. “Public speaking.”

Barry snorted. “Fair point. But listen, you’re never going to have a friendlier audience than you do today. Everyone’s proud of you just for showing up, just for surviving for thirteen years, and so if you fuck up a little, they’ll ignore it. Shit, they’ll probably find it endearing.”

“And what if I fuck up—more than a little?”

“Well, first of all, you won’t, because you’ve practiced your ass off and you could do this service asleep, but even if you do—have I told you about what happened at my bar mitzvah? Because I beefed it in a serious way.”

“No! What happened?”

“Well, you know me, I was freaking out from the second I stepped onto the bimah. I kept it together, mostly, until I got to the closing blessing for the haftara, which is the hardest one—“

“It’s _so_ hard,” Angus agreed. 

“And it hit me that like, I’d done it. The rest of the service was going to be easy. I’d basically done my bar mitzvah. And I was so overwhelmed by that thought, I just burst into tears.”

“Oh nooooooo!” Angus covered his face with both hands. 

“Right there, in front of all my family and school friends and everyone. Just fucking weeping. But you know what?”

Angus peeked out from between his fingers. “What?” 

“Everyone thought it was awesome. They thought I was, like, moved by the beauty of the prayers. I found out later that when I started crying, some of the grownups did too. It was the worst case scenario short of, like, barfing on the torah—“

“Oh, God.”

“Yeah, don't barf on the torah. But my point is, everyone out there is willing to assign good reasons to your fuck ups.”

Angus gave him a skeptical look.

“Hey, if you don’t believe me, go out there and prove me wrong. Everyone’s going to love you. I’ll genuinely bet on it. If anyone is disappointed in you, I’ll eat my foil.”

“You can’t do that, sir!” Angus said, but he was also giggling a little. 

Barry clapped him on the back. “I won’t have to. Now, are you ready to go play the Bar Mitzvah Boy?”

Angus sighed, but he slid from the table to his feet. “I think I can do it.”

“Course you can.”

Barry made sure Angus was fully surrounded by cooing aunts before picking his way back to the pew where the others were sitting. 

“You found him!” said Mavis.

“Yeah, I think he’s good.”

The service finally got started, and Angus, of course, led to perfection. He looked serious up on the bimah, focused but not freaking out. Barry couldn’t help grinning all the way through the V’Ahavtah. It’d taken Angus so much work to master, but he knew every note now. 

It was interesting, Barry reflected as he chanted along, to be in a position where he knew more than Lup, Taako, Magnus, and Mavis. They all routinely kicked his ass at fencing and amtgaurd, had all these in-jokes that he was just starting to learn. But here, even though he was raised in a different movement, he was the expert, and they were the novices. The prayerbooks they were using had translations, but little transliteration. Lup kept frowning at the Hebrew like if she stared hard enough, it would rearrange into English. Mavis was absorbed in reading the translations, but missed all the page number announcements, and kept leaning over to see what page Barry was on. Magnus didn’t bother to try to understand, but whenever a melody had lai-dais, he launched into them with gusto and very little sense of key (not that Barry was singing much better). Taako had given up on his prayerbook entirely, and was sitting with his feet tucked under him, watching the action on the bimah with an unreadable expression. 

Barry told the others when they were supposed to bow, or to go up on their tiptoes, and when Lup started whispering questions about the service to him, he whispered answers back. It was a peculiar feeling. He kind of liked it, but he didn’t like that he liked it. 

They made it through the bulk of the morning service, and to the Torah reading. The rabbi took the Torah from the ark and handed it to Angus, who paraded it around the sanctuary to raucous singing, followed by his family. When it reached Barry’s pew, he touched his prayerbook to the Torah and winked at Angus, who flashed him an anxious smile in return. Some tiny cousin passed them peppermint patties, which Taako was about to eat before Barry hurriedly whispered their purpose. Taako nodded, ate one anyway, and put the rest in a stack beside him on the pew. 

Angus brought the Torah back to the bimah, and then it was speech time. He stood at the podium with his dvar torah printed out in front of him. His expression was totally calm; Barry thought he might be the only one who noticed the papers shaking. 

“Shabbat Shalom,” Angus said. 

The congregation chorused back, “Shabbat Shalom.”

“This week’s parsha is called Yitro, after Jethro, Moses’s father in law. It begins with Moses reuniting with Jethro, and telling him about the miracle of Exodus. Jethro rejoiced, saying, ‘Blessed be God. Now I know that God is greater than all the gods.’” Angus held up his arms and put on a big, booming voice for Jethro’s line, which got a few laughs from the congregation. “But then, Jethro sees how Moses is running his organization. Because Moses knows the laws given by God at Mt. Sinai, which are now the Jewish people’s laws, everyone keeps coming to him to settle disputes, and he never gets a moment’s rest.

“Jethro tells Moses that he’s going to burn himself out like this. He tells Moses to find trustworthy people and delegate the smaller disputes to them, so that they can then bring him the bigger problems, the ones he actually needs to deal with. Jethro’s been a leader for a lot longer than Moses has, and so Moses implements this system.

“After that, the Israelites camp in front of Mt. Sinai, where God fills the sky with fire and smoke, and gives the people the Ten Commandments. I suspect you’ve heard of those.” Angus paused for more chuckles, which he received. “But that’s not what I want to talk about today. I mean, the Ten Commandments have been done to death, right?”

Barry, who had actually written that line, snorted along with the rest of the congregation.

“I want to talk more about the advice Jethro gives Moses. The court system that Moses creates based on this advice formed the structure of Jewish life for centuries. You can see echoes of it in the court system we have today. Yet this system was not based on a divine commandment, like the ones we get later in the parsha. It is based on advice from a worried peer, another leader who could spot the warning signs of burnout. It takes another _human_ leader to tell Moses that he is still a part of the community, still a person, and that he deserves help and support.

“If not even Moses could carry the weight of life alone, how much more so the rest of us? We are all human, all parts of a broader community, whether that community is the Jewish people or a school or a workplace or even a fencing class. We need to be willing to ask for help, to delegate when the task is too large, to trust other people to be competent enough to take on a part of the burden. Asking for help is not a mitzvah in the technical sense—it is not a commandment from God—but it is a mitzvah in the colloquial sense. It is an act of kindness and trust, even when it feels like an admission of weakness.”

Magnus made a small sound, and Barry turned to look at him. His hands were tight on the seat of the pew, and if Barry didn’t know better, he would have thought those were tears in his eyes.

“But simply asking for help isn’t enough. Jethro chose to help Moses before Moses even knew that he needed help. As members of a community, we must look for opportunities to help our peers. We must take the initiative, and we must also accept the help of others even when we think we’re coping fine alone.”

Angus looked up from his papers and right at Barry. He smiled.

Barry smiled back.

“Again, not even Moses could make it alone. We all need support from other people. And so many people have helped me get where I am today—”

As Angus launched into his thank yous, Lup leaned close to Barry and whispered, “That was really cute!”

“Right? He’s a good kid.”

Then, it was time for the actual Torah reading. Angus’s grandfather read the first aliyah, and one of his aunts took the second, but the next five were all Angus. He only stumbled over a couple of words, _way _better than Barry’d done. He read the haftara too, without crying (thank goodness), and then, as he finished the closing blessing, covered his head with both hands as the congregation stood and pelted him with peppermint patties—for a sweet future, as Barry had explained to Taako. 

Angus winced as the candy hit him, but he was beaming behind it, and that light stayed in his face for the rest of the service. 

At the luncheon after the service, Barry claimed an empty table in the corner for the fencing teens. They piled their plates with noodle kugel and bagels and fruit salad on their plates and sat down to eat lunch. It was like one thirty already, and Barry was starving. 

“I hope it wasn’t boring,” Barry said to Lup, half a bagel later. 

“Of course it wasn’t boring! Although I super didn’t get why you guys hide the Torah behind those curtains, if it’s so important.”

“It’s too sexy for us mortals,” Taako deadpanned. 

Barry laughed. “Okay, so, it’s a holy object, right? It’s got the word of God in it, if you believe in that. And so to show respect to God, you’re supposed to stand when you’re in the same room with it. You noticed that we always stood when the ark was open, right? And we can’t always be standing, so we put it away somewhere where we can’t see it.”

Lup nodded, but Magnus said, “Sorry if this sounds, I don’t know, mean, but it’s a serious question. I just don’t get why that’s different from idolatry. That’s a thing you’re not supposed to do, right?”

“Yeah,” Barry said. “You’re good. That’s kind of a complicated question, though, because what even does idolatry mean? Is something only an idol if it’s for a god that isn’t real? Because then, if you believe in God, and the Torah representing God, then it’s not an idol. And it’s not like it’s a graven image that we’re worshiping, like an Anubis statue or a crucifix. But on the other hand, it is an object that isn’t itself God, that we are, like, bowing at and shit, so. It’s complicated.”

“That was a very Jewish answer, sir!” 

They all jumped—none of them had noticed Angus emerging from the crowd. Barry laughed. “Did you see how I answered his question with a question?”

Taako cut in. “Hey, little man, you killed it up there!”

Angus beamed. 

Barry asked, “Have you eaten anything yet?”

“Not yet. I haven’t even sat down!”

Taako made a high pitched, shocked sound and leaped to his feet, pushing Angus down into his chair. “You sit there, McDangus, I’ll get you a plate!” And he pushed off into the crowd.

Mavis handed Angus a glass of water, which he accepted. “How long did it take you to learn all that?”

“Like a year,” Angus said, “but also sort of my whole life?”

She shook her head. “Wow.”

“How’s the response been, bud?” Barry asked. “Do I have to start learning sword swallowing?”

“Nobody’s said anything bad yet.”

Magnus said, “Why would anyone say something bad? You did fucking amazing!” He blanched and added, “Shit, I probably shouldn’t curse in here, should I?”

Angus laughed. “You’re okay, sir, just make sure my great aunts don’t hear you.”

Taako came back with a plate piled high with food. “Your lunch, sir.”

Angus stared up at him. “Why’d you call me sir, sir?”

“You’re a man now, right? That’s what this whole shindig’s about.” Taako collapsed into one of the empty chairs, all causal, but he was watching Angus intently. 

Angus stared down at his plate. “Yeah. I—I guess I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I break out my old college essay outlining methods to write Angus's sermon? You bet I did. 
> 
> If any Jewish jargon needs explaining, let me know in the comments! I love to talk about this shit, so.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who posted prompts! I'm so excited to start working on them. If you want to comment with a prompt and haven't yet, I'm still taking them until 11:59 est tonight (2/9/20 for you future people).


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: mention of Nazis.

It was after Amtguard, and everyone had left Magnus’s except Julia. They’d stayed talking in the living room until they noticed the sun going down. Magnus walked Julia to her car. She opened the door, and then turned around suddenly. 

“Oh! I almost forgot—I’m going to be out of town next weekend, so I won’t be at Amtgaurd.”

“Where’re you going?”

“To Neverwinter, with Hurley and Sloane. Those fuckers in the state senate want to strip abortion rights, so there’s a big reproductive rights rally there, and we’re joining it!” She was grinning, excited. 

Something in Magnus went very cold, very quickly. “Is that safe?” he asked her. 

“Sure. I mean, there’s always some risk, but its a big rally, and there’s permits and everything. And anyway, it’s the right thing to do.”

“Julia—” She was right, but that did nothing to quell the fear running through him. Images from the internet flashed across his mind—tear gas and rubber bullets. He struggled to find words. “People have died at these things.”

“Oh, come on. It’s not like we’re counterprotesting Nazis or something.”

“I know, but —” Magnus trailed off. He didn’t know how to say what he was feeling. 

Julia’s forehead furrowed. “What’s really going on here, Maggie? You’re not anti-choice, are you? Because then I’d have to break up with you.” She was joking, but there was a note of real concern in her voice. She took his hand. “Jesus, Magnus, you’re shaking!” 

He was, he realized, badly. He lifted his free hand to his face. “I’m just—I’m not—”

“Are you really that scared?” Julia asked, softly. “I didn’t realize.”

“I know you can take care of yourself. Just—whenever you go somewhere where I can’t be with you, I always get this feeling like something terrible’s going to happen to you. It’s stupid.”

Julia placed a hand in his cheek, turned his face so he was looking at her. “It’s a little stupid,” she said, “but its also sweet.” She pulled him into a hug. 

He closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around her, pressing his face into the curve of her neck. Her warmth and her solidity comforted him. 

“Listen,” Julia said, not letting go of him. “If you’re really that worried about me, why don’t you go to the rally with me? You can watch my back, and I’ll watch yours. We’re the dream team, right?”

“Right.” Magnus wiped at his eyes. “Yeah, I think that’d be good.”

And that was how Magnus ended up in the passenger’s seat of Julia’s car at an ungodly hour in the morning the next Saturday. It was still dark out; in the back seat, Sloane was asleep, cheek against the window. Although all three of the girls had cars (Sloane’s the fastest, Hurley’s the coolest looking), Julia’s was the only one that could hold four passengers comfortably for the three hours it would take for them to get to Neverwinter. 

Magnus was beginning to nod off, too, lulled by the gentle humming of the car and the darkness pressing against the windows. When his head slipped back against the headrest, Julia prodded him in the side. 

“Oh no you don’t,” she said. “If you all fall asleep, I’ll fall asleep, and then we’ll crash and die.”

“Let’s put on some _music!_” Hurley called. 

Julia reached back to hand her the aux cord. Moments later, Sloane jerked awake to the thumping first notes of “Eye of the Tiger.” 

“Where are we?” she asked, groggy.

“We’re barely out of Faerun, doofus,” Hurley told her. 

“Ugh. Why do I have to be awake?”

“Because I’m awake,” Julia said.

Sloane hit the back of Julia’s chair lightly. “We should at least listen to something better than Hurley’s jock jams.”

“Like what?” Hurley said. “Your screamo?”

Magnus heard scuffling in the back seat. He trained his head around to see Sloane with Hurley in a headlock. Hurley was giggling. Sloane planted a kiss on the top of her head and let her go, slumping back in her seat. “Whatever,” she said. “I’m awake now.”

An hour of jock jams and cheerful goofing later, Sloane leaned forward and planted her chin on Julia’s shoulder. “Jules, this is taking forever! Why don’t you let me drive?”

“I don’t want my car totaled.”

“Oh come on,” Sloane whined, “that was one time!”

“Sloane, you drove off a cliff!”

“It wasn’t a cliff, it was a ditch. And anyway, the car wasn’t totaled. Those brambles cushioned my fall.” 

Hurley snorted. “They didn’t feel much like cushions when I climbed through them to rescue you.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Look, I’ve gotten all the stupid out of my system! I’m at least as safe as Hurley is!”

“I don’t trust either of you to drive my car. Hurley drives like she’s in a fucking Fast and Furious movie.”

“I’ve never crashed,” Hurley pointed out. 

“Pure luck,” Julia said. 

“Okay,” Hurley said, “what about Boyfriend, then? Would you let him drive?”

“I don’t have a driver’s license,” Magnus said. 

All three girls gasped. 

“But—but—you’re sixteen!” Hurley sputtered. 

“Seventeen, and yeah. I failed the test.”

“And you didn’t retake it?”

“Not yet. I haven’t had the chance. It’s not that big a deal.” Magnus felt himself growing red. 

Julia said, “I can’t believe I’m dating a literal child.”

“Guys,” Sloane said, “it’s not that deep. He’s from Faerun.”

The other two made noises of comprehension. Magnus was deeply confused. “What difference does that make?”

Hurley said, “You have an actual bus system.”

“And a downtown to walk around in,” Julia added. 

“If we want to go anywhere other than home or school, we have to drive there,” Sloane explained. “So it’s, like, kind of a big deal.”

“You’re still a baby, though,” Julia said, pinching his cheek.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

“How much longer do we have in this car?” Sloane asked.

“Two hours-ish,” said Julia. 

Sloane threw her head back and groaned. “I’m _bored._” 

“We could play a game,” Hurley said. “We’ve never played never-have-I-ever with Magnus before.”

“Oh! Maggie, you down for that?”

“For sure!” Magnus had played a few games of never-have-I-ever in his time, but they almost always devolved into Taako and Lup sniping at each other while everyone else watched (and laughed, but still). It would be cool to play with new people.

Julia said, “You suggested it, Hurls, so you have to start.”

“Cool. We’re going to ten?”

“Yup.”

“Sick. Never have I ever, um, been out of the country?”

Julia tucked one of her fingers under the steering wheel. “Boring question, Hurley.”

“You can’t jump straight into the juicy shit, you’ve gotta work up to it! Boyfriend, you’re next.”

Magnus nodded. “Never have I ever passed my driver’s test.”

The girls all booed him. Julia said, “You were sitting on that, weren’t you?”

Magnus laughed. “A little bit. Just, you know, some quick revenge.”

Julia said, “My turn, right? Never have I ever, um, kissed someone whose name I didn’t know.”

Magnus looked in the back to see if either of the girls put their fingers down—Sloane did, glumly.

“It’s all you, Sloane.”

Sloane said, “Okay, never have I ever kissed a boy.”

All three of the rest of them groaned, Hurley the loudest. “I told you about that in _confidence!_”

“All’s fair in love and never-have-I-ever, babe.”

“Fine,” said Hurley, and even from the front seat Magnus could hear the wicked grin in her voice. “Never have I ever kissed _Julia_.” 

“Fuck you!” Sloane said, loud enough to be heard over Julia’s cackling. 

Magnus put a finger down. “I _need_ to hear this story.”

“There’s not really a story,” Sloane said. “We were in eighth grade. It was a bad idea.”

Julia explained, “We were the only queer girls we knew, so we thought we were fated or something. It was definitely dumb.” 

Hurley said, “We were on the field hockey team together, which you’d think would be _so _gay—”

“To be fair, it was, just no one was out yet,” Julia added.

Magnus said, “I didn’t know you did field hockey.”

“I don’t anymore, but Hurley still does.”

“Along with every other sport in the world,” Sloane said.

“Not _every_ sport,” Hurley protested. “I’m shit at basketball.”

“How many teams are you on this year?” asked Julia.

“A bunch. Soccer, field hockey, volleyball, rugby, and track, but only intramural because I don’t have time to go to the track meets.”

“Plus fencing,” said Sloane.

“Yeah, I guess, but that one’s not _school_ so it doesn’t count.”

“It’s still a sport.”

Hurley sighed. “I also go on walks with my mom sometimes, if you want a full catalogue of my physical activities.”

Magnus could hear the smirk in Sloane’s voice as she said, “I could add a few items to your list of _physical activities._”

Julia and Magnus both burst out laughing.

After all of Magnus’s fear, the protest ended up being pretty tame. There were maybe three hundred people, bundled up against the cold morning, gathered on the steps of the state senate building. Lots of them had signs—mostly about reproductive rights, but a few sort of general leftist slogans were in the mix as well. The four of them hadn’t brought any signs, but someone handed Julia a poster board that said, “My Body, My Choice” on it in hot pink letters, and Hurley ended up holding one end of a banner for a local women’s shelter for a while. 

There was chanting and singing and speeches from local activists, none of whom Magnus had ever heard of. Julia knew them all, though—she followed them on twitter—and she cheered hugely for each of them. She did a little more than cheer for one woman who was apparently the head of a group called the Campaign for Equality, a tall woman with a butch haircut.

“I saw a talk she gave at this workshop about rural organizing last year,” Julia said to Magnus. “I used to have _such_ a crush on her!”

“Used to?” Magnus teased.

“I mean, Maggie, I love you, but _look _at her!”

The speeches and conversation among the protesters were all centered on this new shitty bill, but they touched on a lot of other stuff—economic inequality and sexism and racism. Most of it, Magnus had been dimly aware of, but some of it was totally new to him. This one speaker talked for a long time about how reproductive rights didn’t just mean the right to abortion, but the right to have children if you wanted to. She got into all this stuff about the forced sterilization of African Americans, immigrants, and disabled and mentally ill people throughout American history, and how it was still happening in prisons as recently as 2010, none of which Magnus had known about. He cheered super loudly when that speech was over.

The four of them ate cold sandwiches with gloved hands and stood until their feet ached, and then, when the protest wound down around six pm, went to find a restaurant for dinner. They ended up in a nearby noodle place, along with a group of college students who had also just come from the protest. They all got a huge table, and Magnus ate a huge bowl of noodles while he listened to the students, Julia, Sloane, and Hurley talk. They spoke fast and passionately, mostly but not completely agreeing with each other. They threw around a lot of words Magnus didn’t know, and a lot of names he’d never heard before. He felt a little left out, but he didn’t really mind. He was content to just watch Julia throw herself into these friendly debates. She threw her whole body into her speech, talking with her hands and shoulders and leaning so far across the table she actually dipped her necklace into her soup.

Fuck, but he loved her. 

It was well after dark when they started driving back. They tried to keep up the same jovial tone as the drive down, but within half an hour, Sloane and Hurley had passed out in the back seat. Magnus sat in the passenger seat, watching the street lamps flash past, as Julia flipped between radio stations, keeping the volume way down. Finally, she said, “Hey, Maggie?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay? You’ve been super quiet since we left the protest.”

“Have I been? Sorry, I didn’t mean to be.”

“No, it’s chill, just, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you so un-exuberant before.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ve just been thinking.”

Julia smiled softly. “Do you want to tell me what you’re thinking about?”

Magnus rubbed a thumb over a the nick in his eyebrow. “You know, I always want to, like, protect people. Like, keep them safe. And I do—whenever I see someone being picked on at school or wherever, I shut that shit down. There’s—there’s some people I can’t protect, but I always figured, you know, that was a matter of getting stronger, or smarter, or whatever. But what everyone was saying, about patriarchy and racism and shit—like, the problems are bigger than bullies in the hallways.”

“They’re structural,” Julia said.

“Right. That. And like, how am I supposed to protect people from that? It makes everything I’ve tried to do seem, just like, small. Pointless.”

“Well,” Julia said, “just because a problem’s too big to face alone doesn’t mean you shouldn’t face it, right? If just you and I had showed up to protest today, it wouldn’t have meant anything, but with three hundred people, maybe it’ll make a difference. And it’s not like school bullies aren’t _not _a problem. I bet people at your school think you’re pretty fucking heroic.”

Magnus hummed. “I guess. I think I need to do some research. Like, read some books or something.”

“Magnus Burnsides! Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend!”

“Hey! I read!”

“Nonfiction? Not for class?”

Magnus hesitated. “Um—”

Julia snorted. “I got you, Maggie. I’ll send you some articles tomorrow. Don’t let me forget.”

“I won’t.” 

Julia took his hand, and they drove off, deeper into the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Julia... made him a good man, and not just like a good person." - Travis McElroy


	29. Chapter 29

The sun had set, but thankfully, Taako thought, it wasn’t all that cold yet. He sat in a swing in the public playground in the neighborhood, gloved hands wrapped around the chains. Kravitz was sitting on the swing next to him, knees close to his chest—he was really too tall for the swing.He kicked absently at the mulch on the ground as Taako watched him.

When Kravitz had asked if he wanted to meet up, he’d sounded so serious on the phone. So far, they’d only talked about trivial shit—schoolwork and TV and how their week had been—but Taako suspected there was something else going on. Probably, Kravitz wasn’t going to dump him. He hadn’t given him a reason to yet. But _something_ was digging a furrow in the middle of Kravitz’s forehead, and it made Taako worried.

Better to get it out quickly. “Hey, Krav, what’s going on?”

Kravitz shifted to look at him. “Hmm?”

“You said you wanted to talk. So far all we’ve done is chit-chat. Which, don’t get me wrong, I’ll happily shoot the shit with you for hours, but I get the sense that’s not why we’re in this playground in the middle of the night.”

Kravitz laughed. “Taako, it’s only like seven!”

“It’s dark out, ergo, night time. But am I wrong?”

“No,” Kravitz said with a sigh. “No, you’re not wrong. I’m—I was hoping I could get your opinion on this thing that’s been bothering me.”

“Listen, you know me, I’m never shy about my opinions.” This got another chuckle out of Kravitz, which warmed Taako immeasurably. “Spill it, man!”

“Right. Okay, so. You know I’m staying in town next year, to get my Associate’s?”

“To become Death itself, yeah, I remember.”

“Well, my moms were working on the schedule for fall, and they were like, oh, let’s schedule the kids’ tap class a little later so Kravitz will have time to get back from school. And I realized—it hasn’t even occurred to them that I might not want to work at the studio anymore.”

“Do you _not _want to work there anymore?”

Kravitz sighed again. “I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it until this all came up yesterday. But I feel like, you know, I should be the one who gets to make that decision. They didn’t even ask me.”

“What did you do when they said that?”

“Nothing. They weren’t talking to me, they were talking to each other.”

“That sucks so much.”

“I don’t know, I might be blowing it out of proportion. It’s not like I hate dancing, or anything, and I like the kids. And they _do _pay me for teaching. Not a lot, but like, given that they’re going to let me live at home without paying rent next year, it’s pretty generous.” Kravitz pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. “I don’t know. This is why I need an outside opinion. Am I being an ungrateful asshole?”

Taako pushed his swing sideways with his toes so he could take Kravitz’s free hand. “You’re not being an asshole,” he said.

“Are you sure? Because I kind of feel like an asshole.”

“Well, you’re wrong, and that’s all there is to it. Your moms are being thoughtless.”

“They aren’t trying to—”

“Of course they’re not. I know your moms, they’re cool as fuck. But even cool people pull dumb shit sometimes. They shouldn’t be making decisions for you.”

“I mean, that’s true, but also like, they know a lot more than I do.”

“They’re not omniscient. They’re making an assumption about what you want, when _you _don’t even know what you want. Maybe they guessed right, but it’s still fucking presumptuous.”

“I guess.”

Taako squeezed Kravitz’s hand, lowered his voice. “So, what are you gonna tell them?”

“Ugh, do I have to tell them anything? Can I just not show up?”

“Listen, I feel you, confrontation is the fucking worst. But that doesn’t sound like the brightest of ideas to me, my man.”

“I know. Jesus. I guess I have to decide what I’m doing next year. Like actually decide.”

“Yup. It’s fucked.”

They sat like that for a moment, far apart but with fingers linked. And then Taako said, “Your moms’ll be cool with it, right? If you tell them you don’t want to dance-slash-teach anymore?”

“Yeah. I mean, they might be disappointed, but I won’t be in trouble or anything.”

Taako hadn’t noticed the knot of tension in his shoulders until it dissolved. “Good.”

“Why wouldn’t they be cool with it?”

“I don’t know, man. Sometimes parents are hard to predict, like—” Taako paused, searching for the word.

“Capricious?” Kravitz suggested.

“Mmm hmm. Mercurial.”

Kravitz laughed. “They are fickle gods, those adults. But no, it’ll be fine. Especially if I offer them a compromise, like I still teach, but only once class or something. They’re usually willing to make a deal. And then year after next, if everything goes well, I’ll be apprenticing at a funeral home on top of classes, and I’ll have a reason to quit completely.”

“I can’t believe I just started dancing, and now you’re gonna quit,” said Taako, teasing.

“Well, if you’d talked to me about it first, instead of showing up all grand gesture-y...” Kravitz grinned at him.

Taako grinned back. “Yeah, yeah. I just want to dance with you before you give it up completely.”

“We can dance whenever we want,” Kravitz said. “We don’t have to wait for a class.”

“Oh yeah?” Taako said, sliding to his feet. “Prove it, tough guy.”

Kravitz stood, too, hooking an arm around Taako’s waist. “Just watch me.”

Taako planted a hand on Kravitz’s shoulder, breathless but trying not to show it. “Do we need music?”

“Uh, sure, hang on.” Kravitz pulled out his phone with his free hand, swiped to Spotify, and then dropped it onto the mulch as it began to play. Taako dimly recognized the song—it had been a moderately popular slow dance song when he was in middle school. Kravitz took his hand, and started stepping side to side with the beat. Nothing complicated, nothing like the steps Taako had watched him do from the studio lobby, but he had the same kind of concentration on his face now as then, like he was scared to mess this up.

Taako got that. He was scared, too. But he followed Kravitz’s lead, swaying with him. As they turned in a slow circle, Taako said, “Did you have this cued up?”

“I have a playlist of—of songs that make me think of you. Most of them aren’t slow, though.”

“You sap.” Taako kissed Kravitz’s jaw, just lightly.

“Guilty. Can I spin you?”

“Of course!”

As the chorus hit, Kravitz lifted his arm and spun Taako, then pulled him back in. “Thank you,” he said.

“What for?”

“For listening to me. For telling me I’m not an asshole.”

“Of course, babe. That’s what being boyfriends is about, right? Supporting each other through shit.”

Kravitz nodded, serious again. “You know I’d do the same for you, right? I want to be here for you.”

“Mmm.” Taako leaned his forehead against Kravitz’s collar bone. If he was waiting for an opening to talk about, well, any of his shit, this was it. But he didn’t want to shatter this moment, which felt so delicate already. So instead, he just closed his eyes, and let Kravitz lead him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you want the specificity, the boys are dancing to Hold Each Other by A Great Big World.


	30. Chapter 30

Lup was dragging a handful of swords out to the field when Merle’s car pulled up to the curb. Mavis emerged and announced, “God and my parents all hate me!”

The reason for this statement burst out of the opposite side of the car and torpedoed up the hill to the field. Mookie. Lup actually liked Mookie. She respected his energy and his enthusiasm. He was a little like a miniature Magnus, she thought. Still, at Amtguard, he was an agent of chaos. He was either too young or too stubborn to internalize the rules of the game, hitting people where he wasn’t supposed to and ignoring it when he got hit himself. It would be hard to play a serious game with him there, but then, who came to Amtguard to be serious? 

Magnus clapped Mavis on the back. “You’ll make it through,” he told her. 

“Tell that to my science fair board,” she grumbled. “He _sat_ on it last night.”

The girls from St. Ioun’s were there, as was Kravitz, back for his first actual Amtgaurd, but Julia had some club or function or something to go to, and had sent her regrets through Magnus. Angus was missing as well—he’d been invited to one of his classmates’ Bat Mitzvah, and so had to skip. 

The first round was everyone-for-themselves, and because Killian had called dibs on the big Berserker sword, she was the last one standing. Well, except Mookie, who refused to admit he’d been hit even though he had like four times. It still counted as a win for Killian, though. 

Noelle suggested a boys versus girls battle, because their numbers were equal for once, and so everyone lined up on opposite sides of the field. It wasn’t really fair, Lup thought, watching the boys confer. There were indeed five of them against the five girls, but Lup, Carey, Killian, Noelle, and Mavis were all really solid fighters, while Mookie was a loose cannon and Kravitz, bless him, had only been to one game, and it’d been rained out halfway though. It was really just Magnus, Taako, and Barry versus the five of them. 

It was pretty cool that Barry counted in the “genuine threat” column now and not the “liability” column. She felt a little warm thinking about it—pride for having helped get him to this point, probably. She’d taught him everything he knew. 

Lup conferred with the other girls. They put together a plan—Lup, Noelle, and Killian would rush the boys head on, with tiny Mavis and sneaky Carey flanking them to either side. The plan would almost certainly fall apart within seconds of the game beginning, but pretending you were a strategic genius was sometimes part of the fun. 

Both teams counted down to start, and then Lup took off running. She was going for Magnus, but just as she was about to get him in the arm, another sword swung up to block hers. It was Barry. “Hello,” he said, grinning.

She stepped back, watching him, intending to be wary but grinning herself instead. “Hello, Bluejeans” she said back, and then feinted high and swung for his legs. 

Barry jumped back, avoiding her sword by centimeters, and then brought his own bade down toward her shoulder. She blocked it, awkwardly, sticking her sword over her shoulder like a baseball bat, and then slipped to the side and swung again. He blocked it, but she pressed against his sword, forcing him back. Her grin grew. His did, too. 

He slipped her and stepped into her so they were practically chest-to-chest. She froze. She didn’t know why, but her heart was going like crazy and she couldn’t make herself move, even though he was right in range. Half a second later she recovered enough to stick him in the arm, but by then it was too late. He’d tapped her on the back with the flat of his sword, and she was dead.

Carey got Barry not two minutes after he’d killed Lup, and Mavis killed Kravitz _and _Magnus before being killed by Taako. Taako was now trying to fend off Carey and Killian, who had him pinned at the edge of the field, while Noelle raced around, trying to get Mookie. Her legs were the size of his entire body, but he was a fast little fucker, and dextrous, and he was giving her a hard time. 

Lup was watching Taako dodge behind one of the small trees to evade Carey and Killian. He was down an arm but so were both of them, and Carey’d lost one of her legs. She was balancing herself with one of her twin short swords and swinging the other at Taako when a high, terrible cry made everyone freeze and turn.

Mookie was lying in the grass, clutching his knee. Noelle was standing over him, both hands over her mouth. She’d dropped the Berserker, and her eyes were huge and panicked. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to—oh my God, Mookie, are you okay?”

Mookie just wailed louder. 

“He’s faking,” Mavis announced with an eye roll, but it was hard to tell. He was certainly kicking up a fuss.

Before any of the rest of them had processed this situation, Barry’d run to Mookie’s side, and was gently lifting him from the grass. “Hey, there, bud,” he was saying, gentle as anything. “You’re gonna be okay. It’s just a little road rash.”

Mookie moaned and clung to Barry’s t-shirt. Barry scooped him up and started heading for Magnus’s house. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Lup scrambled to her feet and followed him. “I know where Magnus’s mom keeps the band-aids,” she told him, and then turned to the others. “Keep playing!” she said. “We’ll be back in a minute!”

Lup led Barry and Mookie to the upstairs bathroom and opened up the medicine cabinet. Barry set Mookie, who was still whimpering but more quietly, on the sink counter and dampened a washcloth to clean his knee. 

For all Mookie’s carrying on, the actual cut on his knee was pretty small. It was bleeding a little, though, so Barry took the hydrogen peroxide and the cotton ball Lup handed him and said, “Hold still, this might hurt a bit.”

As he approached Mookie’s leg with the cotton ball, however, Mookie swung out his foot and kicked Barry in the stomach, and then fell back, cackling. 

It was so unexpected, Lup couldn’t help laughing, too. She expected Barry to be pissed, but Barry just chuckled and straightened his glasses and went in again with the cotton ball, one hand gently on Mookie’s foot to stop him from kicking him again. It was such a calm and compassionate gesture, and it was doing weird things to Lup’s heart. 

“Okay,” Barry said, “you’re all set. Try and play a little more carefully from now on, bud.” He lifted Mookie by the armpits and set him on the floor. As soon as Barry let go of him, Mookie was out of the room. They heard the front door bang open and then closed. 

Barry laughed again, shaking his head. “What a little fireball. I see why Mavis is so grouchy about him.” His voice was fond, though—_he _wasn’t grouchy at Mookie. 

“Yeah,” Lup said. She meant to just _say _it, normal as anything, but instead her voice was quiet and a little shaky.

Barry glanced at her. “You cool?”

“Yeah,” Lup said again, a little more clearly this time. “Sorry, I’m fine.”

“Thanks for helping me with Mookie.”

“Of course. Let’s, uh, let’s go join the others.”

Lup walked with Barry back out to the field, still feeling weird. She kept glancing over at him and then away, and like, maybe she wasn’t actually doing it more than normal, but she was noticing herself doing it. Weird, weird, weird. 

Mookie was already running laps around everyone’s legs, completely recovered, when they reached the others. Taako, however, was upset about something, his voice hitting shocking pitches. 

“…_not short_!” he was saying as they came into earshot. “I am_ five foot nine_, which is a _completely reasonable_ height to be! Just because I hang you around you _fucking giant_s—” He made a gesture that encompassed Magnus, Kravitz, and Killian, all of whom were six feet at the minimum. 

Magnus was bellowing with laughter. Lup thought he’d probably been the one to set Taako down this path, winding him up. Kravitz looked a little bemused, though. Oh well, better for him to see them all at Maximum Silliness now than later. 

Barry laughed quietly beside her. 

“I see they don’t need us to get into shenanigans,” Lup said. 

“No, but they’d be arguing about something smarter if we were there.” He grinned at her, and jostled her with his shoulder the way she was always doing to him.

Lup snorted, said “Fuck yeah,” with the kind of absolute confidence she always projected, but her heart was going like crazy. What was _wrong_ with her? She was paying more attention to her body, her reactions, than she usually did. Was this normal? Was she being paranoid?

Magnus noticed them approaching and waved hugely, cutting off whatever Taako was about to say next. “We’re doing pairs next!” he shouted.

Lup threw up a thumbs-up.

“Want to watch my back for this one?” Barry asked. 

“Always,” Lup said, joking but not joking. 

And then it clicked. Because she was really, genuinely not joking. 

“I have a problem,” Lup said later that night, casting herself onto her bed. 

Taako didn’t look up from his homework, but he made a sound to indicate he was listening. 

“I have a crush on Barry Bluejeans.” It was the first time she’d said it out loud. It made it seem smaller, somehow. Just a crush, like it wasn’t consuming her from the inside. 

“Oh,” Taako said, still not looking up. “I’m glad you finally noticed.”

Lup scrambled to a sitting position. “Wait, you _knew?”_

“I’m pretty sure everyone knows, Lulu. Except probably Barold.”

“_Everyone?_” Lup repeated. “How?”

“You two are always making googly eyes at each other. You spend more time with him than with anyone else except me, and if we’re only counting waking hours he might have me beat. You’re, like, obsessed with each other.”

“Oh my god.” The thing was that it wasn’t untrue. Possibly this wasn’t a new thing—possibly she’d had a crush on him for months now and somehow hadn’t noticed. 

Taako turned in his chair to look at her. There was a very knowing smile on his face. “So,” he said, “when are you going to ask him out?”

“I’m not. I don’t know. Do you think he likes me back?”

“Lup. Are you being serious with me right now?”

“Look, I’m cool as hell, but I’m not—” Lup cast around for the words to express why she wasn’t, would never be, Barry’s type. She was certain that she wasn’t, but the specific reason why eluded her. “He’s very quiet,” she finally said, “and I’m very loud.”

“So?”

“He’s—he should be with someone who gets him better. Someone who’s gentle and kind, like he is, and not the fucking whirlwind of issues I am.” Lup put her face in her hands. “Oh my God, Taako, he’s the kindest fucking person I’ve ever met. You know he got us those gloves because he knew we didn’t have any? He didn’t say anything about it, didn’t threaten anything like Magnus does, he just made sure our hands were okay. And then today with Mookie—” Lup flopped back into her bed. “You should have seen him, Taako. Mookie was fucking with him and he was so patient and soft and like—fuck. And he gives the best hugs of anyone in the whole fucking world and I just—even if he did like me back, why would I saddle someone like that with _me?_”

Taako considered her. “Your ears are bright red,” he said. 

Lup slammed her face into her pillow and let out a muffled scream. 

Taako laughed. “It’s your fucking turn, Lup. You gave me shit about Kravitz for _months_.” 

“I’m having a crisis and you aren’t helping,” Lup said into her pillow. 

The bed bowed as Taako came to sit beside her. He put a hand on her back. “Hey, Lup?” he said, voice much gentler. “You know I’m not—this emotional shit isn’t the thing I’m best at, right? But you aren’t—you’re not something someone would be saddled with. You’re like, fucking, the best person in the world. You know that, right?”

Lup didn’t say anything, just pressed her face deeper into the pillow.

Taako lay down in the bed beside her. They’d shared a bed when they were little kids, and although there wasn’t really enough room on the twin bed for both of them, there was something nostalgic and comforting about it anyway. Taako said, “For what it’s worth, I like Barry better than the last couple dipshits you’ve been into. I don’t know if there’s anyone out there who actually deserves to get to date you, but, like, he could maybe make the cut.”

Lup snorted. “What was wrong with the other guys?”

“Do you want me to make you a list? Cause I can make you a list.” Taako sat up so he could better project his judgements. “First of all—” He trashed their classmates in hyperbolic terms, making her laugh, and she felt a little better. He was always good at that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yall have no idea how delighted I am that I could put a major plot beat on a round-number chapter. It's the little things. 
> 
> Also!!! Thirty chapters!!!! And Lup's finally, finally noticed that she has feelings! What could happen now :O


	31. Chapter 31

“Mookie, please eat your strawberries.”

“I DON’T WANNA!” Mookie banged a hand on the table, rattling the plates.

Mavis slouched down in her chair, scowling. She knew what was about to happen, and she didn’t like it. Merle had been trying to cajole Mookie into eating anything healthy for like ten minutes now, and that was his limit.

Sure enough, Merle turned to look at Mavis, who’d been eating her dinner mostly unnoticed so far. “Mavis?” he asked, sounding defeated.

Mavis sat up with a huge sigh. “Yeah, okay. Hey Mook.”

Her little brother looked up at her.

“You remember those popsicles we had at Mom’s last weekend?”

“Yeah?” Mookie sounded suspicious. He’d been tricked into eating fruit with this line before, but it was still a decent opener.

“You liked those, right? They were just the same as your strawberries, but frozen.”

“No, they’re not! Those were pink and these are _green_.”

“That’s just their heads. Let me show you something—” Mavis snagged one of Mookie’s strawberries and his spoon (even Merle was wise enough to not let Mookie have a knife) and scooped off the leaves and the top of the strawberry. “See? I decapitated it.”

Mookie’s grumpy expression melted into a smile. “Decapitate” was his favorite vocabulary word, and probably his favorite concept. “Let me!” He snatched back the spoon and began hacking into his remaining strawberries.”

“Okay, but then you have to actually _eat _the bodies.”

Mookie bit one of them in half in a big, exaggerated chomp and grinned hugely, showing the pulp and seeds in his teeth. Mavis was about to scold him, but she didn’t get a chance before Merle burst out laughing.

“Atta boy!” Merle said, clapping Mookie on the back. “That’s my fireball!”

Later, as Mavis did her homework and tried to ignore the clattering and shouting coming from the room she shared with Mookie, Merle came to sit down beside her.

“Thank you,” he said.

She looked up from her worksheet, surprised.

“For getting Mookie to eat, I mean. You know I’m no good at stuff like that. So yeah, I appreciate it, kiddo.” He gave her a quick, one armed hug.

Mavis smiled a little. “You’re welcome. Actually, I was, um, wondering if you could do me a favor?” She’d been waiting to get him in a good mood to ask, and having him actually _thank _her for something seemed like the optimal time.

“What do you want, princess?”

“I was wondering if you could give me like thirty bucks? I can borrow it against my allowance for the rest of the month if you like.”

He blinked at her. “What d’you need it for? If it’s a school trip or something we’ll just cover it.”

“Um. I’m actually planning to go to Felicity? With Angus? And I need it to cover the bus there and back.”

Angus had been emailing back and forth with the contact Lucas had given them, a man named Cam who lived in the nearby town of Felicity, and they’d finally set up a day to meet. It was this coming weekend, and Mavis had been putting off asking for bus money until she had her dinner with Merle. She knew better than to ask her mom, who still treated her like a little kid, even though she was just a few months out from high school. Merle was kind of a mess, but he gave her a lot more independence and responsibility. Sometimes, she felt more like his co-parent than his kid. Honestly, waiting until he was in a good mood was probably unnecessary. This would be a non-issue.

But for some reason, Merle was frowning at her. “What are you going to Felicity for?”

“We’re doing, like, a project? Well, Angus is, and I’m helping him. We’re going to interview this guy Cam Forrest.”

“Is this a project for school?”

“No, it’s extracurricular, I guess.”

“And do you know this Cam person?”

“I haven’t met him, but Angus has been emailing back and forth with him for a few weeks.”

Merle’s frown deepened. “So you two are planning to go on your own to a different town to meet a strange man who Angus has been emailing?”

Mavis shifted in her seat. “It’s not like that. He’s a lead for a mystery we’re trying to solve. We contacted him first.”

“And that makes it safe?” Merle shook his head. “No, hun, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you kids to go off on your own.”

“Are you serious?”

Merle nodded. He was, indeed, as serious-looking as Mavis had ever seen him. “You’re just kids.”

Mavis gaped at him. “What do you mean, I’m just a kid?”

“Mavey, you’re only fourteen—”

“I take care of everything in this house! I fucking parent Mookie, because you can’t even get him to eat! And now I’m suddenly a kid?”

“Yes, Mavis.” Merle stood up. He was short, but still tall enough to look down at her. “You are a kid, and your safety is my responsibility. I can’t have you running off to God-knows-where and getting into trouble.”

Mavis crossed her arms across her chest. “Why do you care?”

“What do you mean? Of course I care, you’re my kid!”

“I’m not, though. You’re not even my stepdad anymore.”

“Then ask your mother for the money.” Merle raised his eyebrows at her—they both knew she couldn’t do that. When she didn’t say anything, he added, “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Sorry, hun, but it’s just not happening.” He squeezed her shoulder gently, and then ambled off in the direction of the TV.

Mavis melted across the table, head on her arms. She couldn’t believe how badly that had just gone. How was she supposed to get to Felicity now?

She pulled her phone from her pocket and texted Angus. _Merle won’t give me bus money >:( alternatives?_

A moment later, Angus texted back, _That sucks! I’ll figure out your half of the money, I have some ideas. Can you still get away? _

Mavis considered. She was with her mom this weekend, and since Merle and Heckuba spoke as little as possible, odds seemed against him telling her mom about her plan. _If I can say I’m at your place all day my mom prob won’t stop me!_

_Phenomenal. See you soon! _

Angus sent her a little detective emoji, the boy one. She replied with the girl one, and returned her attention to her homework. Fighting with Merle sucked, but at least the plan was still on.

On Saturday, Heckuba dropped Mavis off at Angus’s downtown apartment. His grandfather was out, and knew they might be gone when he came back, although he thought they’d be shopping elsewhere downtown. They waited until they were sure Mavis’s mom wasn’t coming back, and then they walked the few blocks to the big bus station.

Angus bought their tickets with cash and they waited in the plastic chairs of the waiting room for like twenty minutes, until their bus pulled up. It was a two hour ride to Felicity, a smallish town tucked into the edge of a National Forest. Mavis knew they had a fencing team—Magnus was friends with them—but she didn’t know much else about the place. Angus had, of course, done some research. He told her about the town’s history, its founding and its time as a furniture-making center before the 2008 financial crisis had moved all the manufacturing jobs overseas. Now, it was mostly a tourist town, serving backpackers and vacationers going into the forest. People still made furniture there, but mostly the fancy, artisan kind for rich out-of-towners to buy.

Mavis was only half-listening. She pressed her forehead to the window, watching the highway flicker past. It wasn’t like she’d never disobeyed her parents before, but something about this made her feel weird. Anxious. Like she was running away. She’d imagined running away before, mostly when her mother and Merle were still together but fighting. She’d pictured stealing food from the kitchen, packing up her backpack, and hitchhiking to Neverwinter or Goldcliff. She’d read _From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler _a dozen times, and _My Side of the Mountain_, too, thinking about the logistics of being a kid on her own. She was never serious about it, but thinking about the details had calmed her.

So, she thought about the logistics of their trip today. They had sandwiches and a bus schedule and extra cash. They didn’t expect to be in Felicity longer than a couple of hours, and the busses ran between the two towns several times per day. If it got desperate, Mavis had the Uber app on her phone. It was connected to her mother’s debit card, so if they used it they’d be found out, but at least they _could_ get home. Angus said Cam was no danger to them, but she had her cat head keychain she’d gotten for her thirteenth birthday, the kind that became brass (well, plastic) knuckles if you put your fingers through the eyes. She could defend herself, and she could get home.

She sat up straighter, tuning back into Angus’s exposition. With her bases covered, her anxiety faded, and she started to get excited. Really, if you thought about it, going off on her own like this was a tremendously grown-up thing to do. She asked Angus questions about Cam, what he did for a living and where he lived. Cam was a writer, apparently, like Lucretia. Angus said he wrote mostly instruction manuals for technology, which Mavis thought was the most boring thing she could imagine. He lived in an apartment building less than a mile from the bus stop, so they wouldn’t have any trouble getting to him.

Angus hesitated and added, “You should know, I didn’t tell him how old we were. I didn’t lie, but he didn’t ask, so.”

“How old does he think we are?”

Angus shrugged. “I mentioned we couldn’t come up during the week because we had school, so he knows we’re not fully grown-ups yet, but nothing more than that.”

They found the apartment building without any trouble. It was a renovated former factory, all industrial-chic. Cam lived on the ground floor. They knocked on his door.

“Just a minute!” came a voice from inside. It was low and scratchy, and reminded Mavis of Barry.

The door opened outward, revealing a White man in jeans and a national forest t-shirt, with a short scruffy beard. For a second, Mavis thought he was very, very short, but then she realized he was in a wheelchair. She knew she shouldn’t, but she stared at him, mouth open.

To be fair, he was also goggling at the two of them. He had clearly not been expecting two middle schoolers to appear on his doorstep that day. The only one who seemed unfazed was Angus. He stepped forward and introduced them, brisk and professional.

Cam shook his head. “Yeah, hi. Come in.” He rolled backwards to let them in. “You kids want tea?”

“Sure.” Mavis stepped into the apartment, which was cozy, all exposed brick and quilts. It was smaller than Merle’s apartment, but nicer, more lived-in. There was a living room-slash-kitchen, where they stood now, but Mavis could see beyond it an office with two computer screens glowing from the next room.

Cam bustled into the kitchen side of the room, turning on an electric kettle and snagging a plate of biscotti from the counter. He gestured for Angus and Mavis to sit down on the couch. They did. Angus pulled out a notepad, and Mavis set up her phone to record. They were getting better at this, more professional.

“So,” Cam said, putting the cookies on his coffee table and setting himself up across from them. “You wanted to talk about my time working for the Post?”

That was the excuse they’d made up for contacting him. After getting yelled at by Lucas, they thought a little subtlety would be a good idea.

“Yes,” said Angus. “How you got started, what stories you covered, that sort of thing.”

“You’ve done some googling first, I assume,” Cam said.

“Of course, sir! But we’d like to hear if from you directly, if you don’t mind.”

Cam nodded. “Good reporting, kid. You said this was for your school paper?”

“Sort of. For the newspaper class—we’re supposed to interview a reporter, or someone who worked for a newspaper, and write an article about it.” Angus lied smoothly and cheerfully. Mavis kept her mouth shut, but nodded along.

“Cool. That’s a dope assignment.”

“Thank you, sir! It’s a good class.”

Cam smiled at them. “Okay. So, when I was in college, I travelled a lot, like as much as I could. Out-of-the-way places, mostly. Like, I went to Paris and London and shit—stuff, sorry.”

“You can curse,” Mavis said. “We’ll edit it out.”

Cam laughed. “Right, okay. So, I went to places people weren’t going, like to Eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union, at first just because the dollar went further but later because I really got to know and love the area. I kept a blog as a record of my experiences. And I started making money—this was back in the day when you could make money blogging.”

Angus nodded like this made sense, although Mavis had never heard of someone doing that. Vloging, sure, but just writing a blog?

“Anyway, after I graduated—my degree’s in communications—the Neverwinter Post reached out to me to be their special correspondent for the area, which was a _huge _honor. I did that for a couple years, and then a civil war broke out, and I wound up being a war correspondent. I got paired up with another, junior reporter and a photographer, and we covered the first roughly two-thirds of the war together. Then shit went south and I got injured, so I went home. Now, I write freelance, some pieces for the Post still, and other work-for-hire. I told you some of that in our emails.”

Angus nodded. “May I ask about your injury, sir?”

Mavis was glad he asked so politely. They wouldn’t go barreling into someone else’s trauma again, at least not if they could help it.

“Yeah,” Cam said. “I, uh, got a grenade dropped on me.”

Mavis said, “Really?”

“Really. Lu, um, our location was exposed, and the government decided they didn’t like having us around, asking questions. So they threw a grenade through our door, and _bam_. Our careers were over.”

“Lucretia betrayed you?” The words were out before Mavis had even thought about them, about what they were supposed to know. Angus kicked her in the ankle, but it was too late.

Cam’s eyes narrowed as he considered her. He leaned back in his wheelchair, propping his elbows on the armrests and pressing his fingers together. “Now, I’m pretty sure I never told you two the name of my coworker. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on here.”

“Um?” Mavis’s voice came out high-pitched and panic-y.

“Sir, we didn’t mean to—”

“To lie to me? I’m pretty sure you did.”

Angus glanced at Mavis, who shrugged. She had no idea what to do now that they were caught. “Should we come clean?”

Cam said, “I think you should.”

Angus pressed his hands to his temples and sighed. “Okay. We’re—we know your former coworker, Ms. Lucretia, sir. We suspect there’s something going on with her, and we’re trying to figure out what it is. We got your contact information from Mr. Lucas Miller, who we also, um, interviewed.”

Cam was still looking at them over steepled fingers, expression stony. “Did you ask Lucretia what was happening?”

“Um,” Angus began, but didn’t seem to have an answer.

“Yeah, I thought not.” Cam shook his head, but he was almost smiling. “Listen, I’m not just going to tell you someone else’s life story, especially not when you came into my home under false pretenses.”

Mavis stared at her knees. The anxiety she’d felt on the bus was back in full force.

“But,” Cam said, “I admire your gumption. You’ve got something to learn about journalistic ethics, but your search for truth—honestly, you remind me a bit of her, when she was young. I think you should ask Lucretia yourselves. I also think you should probably leave my living room now.”

Angus nodded and made to pack up his notebook. “Sorry, sir.” He sounded genuinely chastened.

“Cam? Can I, um, just ask you one more question?” Mavis asked.

Cam said, “I won’t answer if I think it’s inappropriate, but I’ll let you ask.”

“Okay. Um, so, we talked to Lucas, right? And he hates Lucretia. Like, he _hates_ her. And I was just wondering—do you hate her?”

Cam’s stony expression softened. “No,” he said. “No. I don’t think we’ll ever be friends again, but I don’t hate her. Lucretia—you must understand, we were in a difficult situation. She did what she thought was best. She was wrong, but she didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt. Lucas lost his mother, and he was just a kid, so it makes sense that he won’t forgive her, but—I’m rambling. No, I don’t hate her. You’ll have to ask her for the rest.”

“Thank you,” said Mavis. “Sorry we lied to you.”

“I hope you’ve learned something from it.”

Mavis glanced at Angus, who seemed deeply engrossed in the pattern of the carpet. “It think probably we have.”

————

Back in Faerun, Merle was doing some googling of his own. A search for Cam Forrest turned up the same information for him as it had for Mavis. He read a few articles, frowning less at the content, which was devastating on its own, than at the bylines.

He dialed a number in his phone, waited as it rang.

“Merle?” It was Lucretia, sounding surprised. “What’s going on?”

“Hi, Lucretia. Listen, I think my kid is investigating you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've finally posted the first of the prompted fics you guys requested! More to follow soon, hopefully with less turnaround time than this one took. 
> 
> sneks_stories_2 requested a blupjeans hanahaki fic! If that sounds like your jam, you can find it here: https://archiveofourown.org/chapters/55155886


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Child abuse. Take care of yourselves.

Taako’s legs were absolute jelly when he got done with his dance class. He was trying to make them behave long enough to get his street shoes on when Kravitz came into the lobby. “Hey there, gorgeous,” Taako said, gesturing to the couch beside him. 

Kravitz plopped down next to him and leaned over to kiss his cheek. It was incredible how that kind of intimacy could just feel normal, and somehow still kick up a whole conga line of butterflies in his stomach. “How was class?” Kravitz asked. 

Taako grimaced. “I’ve been thinking of it as a pass/fail system,” he said. “If I’m still alive at the end of the hour, I pass. How are the kids?”

“Noisy, but getting better. They were all on beat for about thirty seconds today.”

“Hell yeah!” Taako finished tying his shoes and grabbed his backpack. 

“Can I walk you to your bus stop?”

“Course! Give me a hand, will ya?”

Kravitz hauled Taako to his feet. Taako offered his arm, and Kravitz took it. 

When they were out the door, Kravitz said, “My moms are taking the junior company to a dance competition this weekend.”

“Sick. Are you going?”

“No, I’m going to have the house to myself.” 

“That’s chill as hell, man.”

“Yeah. And, uh, I was wondering if you, you know, wanted to stay over on Saturday.”

“Oh. _Oh._” Taako did _no_t blush, but he could feel the heat rising to his cheeks like he was Barry fucking Bluejeans or something. And then his stomach dropped. On the list of things his grandfather would not allow, staying over with his boyfriend was probably at the top. Maybe he could sneak out, but he’d never even tried to sneak out without Lup before, and he’d never been gone for more than a couple hours, and what if—

“I mean, if you don’t want to, I totally understand. I didn’t mean to, I don’t know, pressure you into—“

“No. Nope. Hold on a sec.” Taako stopped walking, and turned so he was looking right at Kravitz. “I want to. Like, holy shit do I want to. It’s just that the logistics are a little… complicated.”

“Oh shit. Will your grandfather be a problem?”

That was not a conversation Taako was willing to have right now. “My grandfather’s never a problem,” he lied. “Tell you, what, hot stuff. I’ll be there on Saturday night. Don’t even worry about it.”

Kravitz’s shoulders dropped with relief. “Awesome,” he said. “Awesome. I’ll—I can’t wait.”

“Me either, babe.” Taako’s mind was racing with questions, with problems, with possibilities—but all that vanished when Kravitz kissed him. 

“Lup! I need your help!” Taako announced, crashing through their bedroom door. 

Lup looked up from where she sat cross legged on her bed. “Is it your math homework? Because I don’t understand logarithms, either. I was actually about to text Avi—“

“It’s not math!”

“Okay, what is it?”

“I need to sneak out on Saturday. Alone.”

“What the fuck? Why? And why aren’t I invited?”

He told her about his conversation with Kravitz, and she actually squealed when he got to the part about his parents being out of town. She caught the implication much more quickly than he had. 

“Holy shit, Taako, you have to go!”

“Listen. Yes, obviously, but also—will you be okay covering for me? I don’t know what time I can get back.”

“Dude, I’ve totally got you. Don’t worry.” Lup’s expression turned thoughtful, and she added, “I am surprised that Kravitz would ask you to sneak out, though. You know him better than me, but that doesn’t seem like, you know, how he rolls.”

“Oh no,” Taako said, casting himself onto his bed. “I didn’t tell him I’d be sneaking out.”

“What does he think you’re doing, then? Surely he doesn’t think our grandpa would give you permission to be out overnight.”

“He doesn’t exactly know the whole, you know, situation with our grandpa. I told him it wouldn’t be a problem, because it won’t be.”

Lup sighed in that infuriating, I’m-five-minutes-older-so-I-guess-I-have-to-be-the-grownup way. “You’re going to have to talk to him about this at some point.” 

“Bullshit.”

“Taako, I’m serious.”

“Yeah, well, how much of this have _you_ told Barry?”

“That’s different,” Lup snapped. “Barry’s not my boyfriend.”

“Sure. And I’m the mayor of Neverwinter.”

“Shut up!” Lup lobbed a pillow at him, which he batted away, laughing. 

“So are you going to help me sneak out, or what?”

“Jesus, Taako, of course I am. I’m just saying, like, what do you think would happen if you told him?”

“I don’t want to be, I don’t know, too much for him. I don’t want to scare him off.”

“He doesn’t seem like he scares easily.”

“Hey, you haven’t watched horror movies with him. I have. He’s a total wuss.”

Lup sighed again. “If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. Just think about it, okay?”

Taako had been thinking about it. He’d been thinking about nothing else since the first time he’d kissed Kravitz. And he kept coming to the same conclusion. Taako wanted Kravitz to like him, so he’d keep himself easy to like. He’d stay glittery and graceful and funny. Maybe someday, if he was sure Kravitz wouldn’t run away, he’d let some of the varnish rub off, let the glitter fade, but not yet. 

Not yet. 

In the end, sneaking out alone was easier than choosing what to wear to Kravitz’s. They’d done the hard part two years ago, when they made a rope that went out the back window.  It was made of honest-to-god tied together sheets, for drama and also because they were comparatively easy to steal. One end was tied to Lup’s bed frame.  Lup checked that their grandpa was reading in his office and then held the sheet-rope steady for Taako to climb down. Taako cut through their neighbor's back yard, snagging a few early tulips from a flowered as he went. He ran most of the mile and a half to Kravitz’s house. 

Kravitz opened the door just as Taako was raising his hand to knock. “Hi,” he said. 

“I brought flowers,” Taako said, still a little out of breath. 

Kravitz grinned, and kissed him, and closed the door behind them. 

———— 

Magnus almost never got to fencing before the twins, but here he was, already changed and chilling on the couch with Mavis when they walked in. He hopped up to meet them, bumping fists with Taako and giving Lup a one-armed hug around the shoulders. 

Lup winced. 

“Are you okay?” Magnus asked her.

“Of course,” she said. “Let me go, I’ve got to change or I’ll be late.”

So Magnus went back to listening to Mavis talk about the latest shit Merle had pulled.

Then, Lup stepped out of the changing room in her t-shirt and knickers, and now Magnus saw the reason she had flinched - there was a nasty purple bruise on her upper arm. 

“Damn, Lup, that’s a gnarly bruise,” Mavis said. “Have you been fencing saber without us or something?”

Lup laughed, and if Magnus had known her even slightly less well, he would have thought it was genuine. “No,” She said. “You’ll never believe it, but I was on the stairs at school yesterday, and some asshole actually stepped on my shoelace. It was like some fucking cartoon! I’m lucky I only crashed into the railing, and not, like, down the stairs.”

“Jesus,” said Mavis. “Well, you look like a badass.”

“I always do,” said Lup with a wink, sending Mavis into a fit of giggles. 

“Lup,” Magnus said, trying very hard to keep his voice normal, “can I talk with you a sec?” He motioned back toward the equipment room. 

“Sure thing.” Lup’s voice had taken on a cautious quality. 

When they were out of earshot of the rest of the students, Magnus said, “Was it your grandpa?”

“Does it matter?”

“Oh my God, I am going to fucking kill him.”

“Magnus, please keep your voice down!”

“Sorry.” Magnus dropped his voice to a whisper. “Will you tell me what happened?”

Lup actually smiled at that. “Taako snuck out to see his boyfriend,” she said. “It was just bad luck that Grandpa wanted to be fucking waited on. Sometimes I think he knows when we’re up to shit, and chooses those nights specifically to care whether we exist or not. Anyway, I told him Taako was asleep, and that pissed him off. It’s not that big a deal - it looks worse than it actually is. And Taako’s fine, so. It’s cool.”

Magnus shook his head. “Lup, you can’t keep doing this.” It was a well worn argument, and having it was more of a formality than anything. They both knew what the other was going to say. 

“It’s just a few more months.”

“If you don’t tell someone, I will, I swear.”

Lup put a hand on his arm. “Magnus,” she said, “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but it isn’t your job to protect me.”

“It’s not _your _job to protect _him_.”

They both turned to look at Taako, who was holding Angus’s glove in the air and laughing as the kid jumped to try and get it back. 

Lup sighed. “It’s just a few more months,” she repeated. 

“Will it hurt if I hug you?” Magnus asked. 

“I don’t think so.”

Magnus wrapped her up in a huge bear hug, and she clung to him, pressing her forehead into his shoulder. 

“You deserve so much better than this,” he whispered into her hair. “You both do.”

She made a quiet sound that might have been agreement. 

Eventually, he let go and she stepped back. “I have some ibuprofen in my bag,” he said. 

“Oh my god, Magnus, you’re a fucking lifesaver!” 


	33. Chapter 33

They were out of sync again. “You keep slowing down, Lup,” Barry said.

“I am not! You’re speeding up!”

“Oh am I?” Barry said, smiling. “Cause one of us still in time with the metronome.”

“Yeah, _me._”

Barry snorted.

Lup sat down heavily beside Barry on the piano bench, resting her head on his shoulder. “It’s just this piece you picked. It’s too hard.”

It was, to be fair, a genuinely challenging piece. Barry had found it on some Spotify playlist before looking up the sheet music. It was _gorgeous_ but complicated, and almost none of it had the piano and violin anywhere near unison, which meant it was easy to slide off the tempo. “It’s not that bad,” Barry said. “We’ve just got to get on the same wavelength is all. Or, alternately, you could listen to the metronome.”

“Not a chance. This is _art_, Barold! You can’t chain art to a metronome!”

Barry laughed. “Do you want to start again?”

“Sure. _Salut D’Amour _take four billion.” Lup stood, lodged her violin under her chin, and said, “Count us down, babe.”

Barry did, but when he started playing, Lup missed her cue completely.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, got distracted!” Lup said. “Start again, please?”

Barry glanced up at her. The tips of her ears were crimson. She must be really embarrassed that she missed the cue. He tried not to think about how adorable that was. “Hey, don’t worry about it. It happens to the best of us!”

“Ha, yeah. Just start over, okay?”

“Okay. One, two, ready, _go.”_

He played half a measure on the piano, and then she dropped in, right on time now. There were all these fucking tempo changes, though, and it wasn’t long before they were out of step again.

“I swear, you’re slowing down.”

“That’s because I’m supposed to! See?” Lup showed him her sheet music. She was right, her tempo was supposed to slow there, and his was supposed to stay steady.

“Well, fuck. Let’s take it from the top, then.”

\---------

“My hands fucking _hurt_!” Lup was saying as she and Barry emerged from the practice room.”

“Yeah, we went a little overboard, huh? I bet it’s—oh, it’s not dark out. Spring is weird.”

“So weird,” Lup said. She was going to say something else, but before she could, Barry stopped walking. She stopped, too, turning. “You okay?”

Barry had gone pale. “It’s fucking Art again. Christ, I can’t deal with him today. Let’s just—let’s go around the back of the building, okay? I don’t want him to see me.”

“Fuck that,” Lup said, cheerfully. “You’re paying tuition to use these doors, so you’re gonna use them.”

“I’m not—”

“Come on!” Lup grabbed his wrist and hauled him past the music classrooms, toward the front door. Now that she was looking for him she did see Art Goodfriend leaning against the wall next to one of the classroom doors. Fucking smarmy looking asshole.

Aaaaaaand he’d spotted them. And was coming over to them, with this dumb fucking grin on his face.

“Barry! What is _up, _my man? We have _got _to get that coffee!”

Barry shot Lup a look of betrayal. “Hi, Art.”

“And hey, you still haven’t introduced me to your cute friend! Do you go to school here?” He directed this at Lup, who raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, I’m gonna need you to back off.”

Art put up his hands. “Sorry, I was just trying to talk to my _friend_ here.”

“He’s not your friend,” Lup snapped. “And we have things to do. So if you’d kindly fuck all the way off?”

“What the fuck do you know, lady?” Art took a step toward the two of them.

Lup matched it. “I know you’re the world’s biggest douche.”

“You gonna let your girlfriend talk to me like this, Bluejeans?”

Barry shrugged. “Not really my call, dude. She’s right, though. We’re not friends.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Art said. He took another step, towards Barry this time, ignoring Lup.

She stepped between them, nose to nose with Art, now. Barry grabbed her hand, and she made her shoulders relax, made herself plaster an icy smile across her face. “You might want to reconsider what makes someone your friend, fuckhead,” she said, as calmly as she could. Then she turned on her heel and headed straight for the doors, still holding onto Barry.

She stopped when they were outside. It was a cool evening, but not cold, thank fuck. She crossed her arms. “Sorry if that was—if that was too much.”

Barry let go of her hand, but only to face her and put his hands on her arms. “Are you kidding?” he said, and she looked up to find him grinning at her. “That was the coolest shit I’ve ever seen! I cannot believe how brave you are!”

Lup tucked her hair behind her ear. “Well. He had it coming.”

“You’re damn right he did. Fuck, it’s gorgeous out. Let’s put all the windows down!”

“Hell yeah.” Lup followed Barry to his car, still feeling weird and prickly, and a little embarrassed. Fucking Art. Where did he get off thinking he could just _talk_ to them like that? She wanted to yell at him way worse, probably would have if Barry hadn’t grounded her. And Barry wasn’t even mad at her for snapping, which was amazing. He didn’t think she was too much.

Even though, like, she kind of was. What were the odds that he’d lose patience with her soon?

She tried not to think about it on the ride home. She let the evening breeze run though her hair, enjoying how long it had gotten—it was past her shoulders now—enjoying listening to Barry sing along with the old man music on the radio. _You make me feel so young._ This was all fine. She was fine.

“See you tomorrow,” she said, when they arrived at her grandfather’s house.

“Bright and early,” Barry confirmed.

Should she hug him? She usually hugged him goodbye, but it felt weird now. She hesitated, then held out a fist for him to bump. He did.

“Bye!” And he drove away.

Fuck shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry this one is short, I got that social distancing brain. I'm hoping to put up some side stories this week, so maybe that'll balance things out. 
> 
> Also, just so you're all prepared - we're getting closer to the endgame now, and these next several chapters will be notably less fluffy than the fic has been on average. Don't worry, I promise I'm going somewhere will all this, and it'll get fluffy again before the end! 
> 
> In the meantime, take care of yourselves and each other. It's rough out there. Hang out w me on tumblr if you are so inclined. 
> 
> Love, The Z


	34. Chapter 34

The St. Ioun’s gym smelled like wood polish and sweat, but mostly the polish. It was only a twenty minute drive from Magnus’s house, but Taako had lost his sneakers and then Barry had to get gas, so they were only just in time to suit up and start fencing. They didn’t even really warm up, which Magnus was regretting already. He’d just beaten Cassidy pretty handily, but his legs were complaining.

Team Starblaster was fighting the home team, now, which meant Magnus and Carey were hanging back to talk while they could. Lup and Killian were fencing, and normally Magnus would be absolutely paying attention to the display of pure athleticism they were putting on, but he hadn’t seen Carey since he’d given her the box for Killian’s birthday, more than a week ago now.

“So,” he asked in an undertone, “did she like it?”

“Of fucking course she did! Magnus, it’s so cute!”

Magnus grinned. “Thanks, Care.”

“But, okay. She’s always messing with it, right? Taking off bits of it or shuffling the pieces around. But I’ve never seen her open it all the way. I don’t know if she can’t get it open, or if she doesn’t want to admit to opening it because she doesn’t want to go out with me and also doesn’t want to hurt my feelings because she’s the fucking kindest person on earth and I’m dying.”

Magnus laughed in spite of himself. “That doesn’t really sound like Killian,” he said. “She’s not, like, sneaky like that.” On the other hand, Magnus did not think he’d made a particularly challenging puzzle box, but he wasn’t about to say that to Carey.

“Yeah, I guess.”

They paused to watch Lup do a magnificent flèche across the strip, only to be practically swatted out of the air by Killian’s beat-reposte. Carey shook her head. “She’s so cool.”

“Yup,” said Magnus. “So it sounds like you might have to actually use your words after all.”

Carey turned her foil around and stuck it under her arm, miming stabbing herself.

“Yeah, yeah. But listen, sometimes it works out.”

“Julia threw herself at you even faster than you were throwing yourself at her. You didn’t have shit to worry about.”

Magnus shrugged. “Still.”

“Whatever.” The buzzer went off, declaring Lup’s narrow victory. “I’m gonna go murder you now.”

“Not if I murder you first,” Magnus said, hefting his helmet.

And, to be fair, he did get the first point on her, although Carey eventually beat him 10-7.

———

“Okay,” Lup said, gathering her boys around her. Barry was in the team huddle, although he was not on the team, for moral support reasons. “We lost to Raven’s Roost, but they were only one point short of Wonderboro. So if we can beat those fucks, we might have a chance of winning the tourney. It’s all on the line, boys.” What she didn’t say, but they were all thinking, was that this was the second-to-last tournament of the year, and they were running out of chances to beat Wonderboro before Lup and Taako (and incidentally, Edward and Lydia) went off to college. Lup was buzzing with energy and also anxiety.

She was up first, versus Brian. She Velcro-ed her collar, picked up her mask and foil, and was about to go get hooked in when Barry caught her in a one-armed hug. “Fuck em up,” he said.

“Thanks.” Lup could feel the heat coming off her ears. She stuck on her mask so no one could see her face, and then headed to the strip.

Brian was the least miserable person on the Wonderboro team to fence. He was not exactly un-miserable, as he’d picked up that infuriating gloating superiority from his teammates, but he didn’t go for painful off-targets as a main part of his strategy. Small mercies. He was adaptable and smart, with a tendency to plan out these elaborate phrases with a billion different moves, but Lup was plain old faster than him. Fencing gets talked up a lot as “physical chess,” where the mental game is as important as strength and speed, but you can set up as complicated set of moves as you want, if someone can parry-reposte faster than you can react, you’re fucked.

Brian was fucked.

Unfortunately, Magnus was up against Lydia next, and Magnus was also fucked.

Magnus had grown as a fencer over the school year. He didn’t always attack the exact same way now, and he faster on his feet, better able to change course in the middle of an action. But he was still impulsive, still took any opening he saw without considering if it was a trap. And Lydia set a lot of traps.

It was a rough match to watch.

So, they weren’t going to get first place. Which was fine and not gutting at all.

At least Taako stood a decent chance of beating Edward. He fist-bumped Lup and Magnus before hooking himself up to the sensors and saluting Edward.

Before she started doing tournaments against the Wonderboro kids, Lup didn’t know that a person could salute shittily, but they sure could.

Taako versus Edward meant speed, precision, racing up and down the strip at top speed. It meant a lot of flashy bladework, made flashier by those admittedly dope blue steel blades. It meant the ref having to haul ass to keep up, and probably not seeing half of what went on on the strip.

Which Edward definitely knew, and would definitely use to his advantage.

At first, it didn’t seem like he’d be able to. Taako got one point on him, and then another, and then he was leading 7-4. Edward _could _come back from that, Lup was thinking, but it seemed unlikely—but then Edward was lunging and didn’t he see he was too close he was gonna—there was a horrible snapping sound as Edward’s sword snapped against Taako’s chest, the front end spiraling though the air to clatter on the ground several feet away.

Taako landed on his ass on the ground, pressing a hand to his chest. Edward stood over him, holding his jagged, sharp broken sword, and for a moment Lup thought—but then he stepped back with a shrug and unplugged the hilt from the sensors. Lydia already had a fresh foil out and waiting for him.

“Time out,” Lup called. She crashed to her knees beside Taako, Barry and Magnus seconds behind her. “Taako, babe, are you okay.”

“Peachy,” Taako said, not sitting up. “I’m in, you know, a decent amount of pain. But. It’s fine.”

Barry said, “We should—we should see how bad it is.”

Taako unzipped the front of his lamé and jacket, and pulled down the collar of his t-shirt. “How’m I looking? I can’t see.”

“Fuck,” Lup said softly. There was a red-purple dot on Taako’s chest, just below his collar bone. It was small, but Lup knew her bruises, andthis baby was definitely going to get bigger. “Does it hurt?” she asked, brushing it lightly with her fingertips.

Taako slapped her hand away. “Yes it fucking hurts, what do you think?”

Edward hurt her brother. This was not allowed.

Lup stood up. She was shaking, radiating anger like heat. Magnus was right beside her, fists clenched. She glanced at him, and he nodded. They were going to fuck Edward up.

Then, there was a hand on her arm. “Guys,” Barry said. “You’re going to get disqualified.”

“I don’t care.”

Taako propped himself up on his elbows. “I fucking do,” he said. “Listen, we have one more shot at beating them the right way. Honestly, Lup, if you punch him now, it would be _awesome_, but it kind of proves that we don’t think we can win. And, like, we _can_.” When neither of them relaxed, he reached up to touch her hand. “Hey, Magnus, Lulu—”

Lup felt the fight go out of her at Taako’s use of her nickname. “Whatever,” she said, raking her fingers through her hair. “Whatever. I’m gonna—I’m gonna step out for a minute.”

Taako nodded, and stuck his tongue out at her, and since he was okay enough to be goofing around, Lup headed for the gym doors.

————

Magnus watched Lup rush out of the room. His heart was going like crazy.

“Help me up,” Taako demanded from the floor, and so Magnus took hold of one of his arms and Barry took the other, and they hauled him to a standing position. Once Taako was steady, he prodded his growing bruise with one finger, and winced. “Fuck. Don’t love that.”

The ref came up to them. “Taako, are you okay to keep fencing?”

Magnus wanted to tell him to say no, to forfeit, but Taako nodded before he could say anything.

“Yep. Cha’boy’s good. Let me at em.”

Barry tapped Magnus on the arm. “I’m gonna go check on Lup, okay?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Magnus watched Taako lose the rest of the bout, fuming. His friends were hurting again, and what was he doing? Fucking nothing. He’d been so cheerful before, and now everything had gone to shit.

Oh well. At least the tournament was over. Magnus and Taako accepted their third place trophy—Lup hadn’t come back yet—and everyone began to disperse. Magnus stripped off his jacket and shoved it unceremoniously into his bag. He unhooked his underarm guard and was about to do the same to it, when someone shouted, “Wait!” from the middle of the gym.

Magnus paused and looked up. Killian was standing on the basketball center line, holding a hand in the air. Her words seemed to be directed at Carey, who was halfway through shouldering a fencing bag, although pretty much everyone in the room had turned to look at her.

“Yeah?” said Carey cautiously, her voice carrying in the suddenly quiet gym.

“Um,” said Killian, looking around at everyone looking at her. It was clear this was a higher level of drama than she’d intended this moment to have. She pressed her eyes closed, just for a second, and when she opened them, her jaw was set. Whatever this was, she was carrying through with it. “Carey. Hi. Okay. I wanted to say that—I think you’re super cool, and funny, and lovely and I was just wondering if—if you wanted to go out with me?”

Carey shrieked and ran at Killian, who lifted her up in this huge spinning hug.

Magnus started laughing so had he had to sit down. Taako let out a whoop, bruises and losses forgotten.

Once they’d given the girls a moment to hug, everyone descended on them, shouting congratulations. Noelle was first, but Magnus was close behind, and Taako, Antonia, and Rowan were right after him.

“Did you see my note?” Carey asked. “Is that why you knew I’d say yes?”

Killian frowned. “What note?”

“The one in the puzzle box?”

“Care, you know I can’t get that fucking thing open. I had no idea you’d say yes.”

“You’re so brave,” Carey said wonderingly, and Magnus cracked up again.

—————

Lup found herself in the darkened hallways of St. Ioun’s high school. Rectangles of sunlight spilled from open classroom doors, but most of the hall was in shadow. Lup walked until she reached a water fountain, and then drank in great gulps until she ran out of breath. Fucking private school kids. Even the water in their water fountains was better than Faerun High’s.

She heard footsteps approaching on the linoleum tiles, and straightened.

“Hey,” said Barry.

“Hey.”

“You okay?”

Lup shrugged.

Barry slid his hand into hers, and she leaned her head against his shoulder.

“I hate not being able to keep him safe,” Lup said, eventually.

“I know.”

Just, “I know.” Magnus would have told her it wasn’t her job, not that he had any room to fucking talk. Taako would have made it into a joke, or snapped at her that he could take care of herself. But Barry just said he knew.

“It just makes me so mad.”

“He’s where you keep your heart,” Barry said. “It makes sense.”

“I guess.”

How did he know her so well? They hadn’t even been friends a year, but he could explain her to herself. She held on to him a little tighter.

They stayed there like that for a while, leaning against the wall and each other in the hallway, until loud cheering snapped their attention back to the gym.

“What was that?” said Barry.

“It sounded—positive? But I’m not sure.”

“We should find out,” Barry said. He let go of her hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst, but! Girls! So hopefully it balances out a bit. 
> 
> Stay safe out there <3


	35. Chapter 35

Lup was losing her mind. “I think I’m gonna go take a walk,” she said to Taako, who rolled his eyes and grabbed her arm.

“Listen, you don’t have to talk to him if you’re freaking out that badly, but we _pay_ for these fencing classes. Come on.” He steered her though the studio door and into the waiting room. Barry wasn’t there yet—they were early, as usual. Of the fencers, only Angus was there, curled behind a huge book. It looked like a history text, not his typical murder mystery novels.

“Hey Ango,” Lup said, bumping fists with him.

She ducked into a changing room. Maybe Barry just wouldn’t come to fencing today. Maybe she could put this off another week. There was no real reason to do it today, even if he did show up, except that she’d told Taako she would, and he would make fun of her for chickening out until her literal actual death. So.

Lup hadn’t asked anyone out since middle school. She’d only been tempted to a handful of times in the intervening years, and every time she’d been able to talk herself out of it, to remind herself that she didn’t have time to date right now, that the people she had crushes on weren’t _actually_ worth her time, that there was no real need to be vulnerable. She didn’t do vulnerable, not with anyone except Taako and sometimes Magnus.

And now Barry. She hadn’t meant to be, but she was vulnerable in front of Barry.

And prom tickets were on sale.

And she was a senior.

And she was leaving Faerun in just a few months.

If she was going to do this, she didn’t have that much time.

She tucked in her t-shirt, zipped up her knickers, and stuck her hair in a stubby ponytail. She took a huge breath and pushed the curtain aside.

Barry wasn’t there yet.

Which was fine and good and she was totally okay. She was okay. She was just thinking, like, maybe she’d been putting on a cool, confident face for so long that she’d bought her own hype, and now she was discovering that actually, she was a total disaster. She took a few steps to the couch and sat, watching the dance class absently. Taako seemed to thin Barry would say yes, but what did he know? At least, Barry was a good dude. He might say no, but he wouldn’t be a dick about it.

God, what if he was? What if she’d misjudged him so deeply that she didn’t actually know him at all? She’d thought it was safe to let people in before and been laughed out of the room.

Or what if he said yes, but only because he felt too awkward to say no? And she trapped him in an uncomfortable situation because he didn’t want to do to her what that Art guy had indirectly done to him? He had, like, prom trauma (_proma_, an irrepressible part of her brain supplied). Was it unfair to ask him at all?

The bell at the door jangled, and Barry walked in. Her heart stopped. He smiled at everyone so easily. He was so different than he’d been when she’d first met him, when she thought he hated all of them because he was too awkward to joke with them.

Okay. It really would be awkward to ask him now, with everyone watching, and then they’d have to do the whole fucking class together and that would be. Weird. Right? So, after class. It wasn’t stalling, it was considerate.

Lup fenced like absolute dogshit. After Angus beat her 5-0, he actually pulled her aside and asked her if she was okay. She laughed it off, told him she was getting a cold, and he seemed to believe her. And then class was over, and she was out of time.

———

Lup pulled Barry aside after class, while everyone was still putting their equipment away. She took his arm, which gave him fucking heart palpitations, and led him to the corner by the water fountain. He noticed that the tips of her ears were pink, probably from that last bout she’d fought. She was smiling a little as she looked up at him, a smile he might have called anxious if she wasn’t, you know, Lup.

“What’s going on?” he asked her.

“Nothing, I was just—I have a question for you.”

Barry was immediately _so_ nervous. “O-okay?”

“Yeah. Uh. I was wondering if, um, you would want to go to my prom with me.”

This was so far away from anything Barry had expected that he burst out laughing. He couldn’t help it. The idea that Lup, _Lup, _was asking him to prom was so like something he would imagine instead of listening to his Ethics lecture, that the idea that it was actually happening was—well, it was ridiculous.

Then, he saw Lup’s face, and he stopped laughing. The smile had left her face, replaced by a hard line of a mouth. Her eyes were lowered, and she’d crossed her arms over her chest. Fuck.

“Wait, I didn’t mean to laugh! I was just so surprised—of course I’ll go to prom with you!”

“I can’t believe you fell for it,” Lup said, her voice peculiarly low and flat. “I really thought you’d be smart enough to know I was kidding.”

_Barry, Brad told me that he wants you to ask him to prom._

Barry could feel his face heating up. “Hey, that’s not cool.”

Lup looked up at him then, and her eyes were burning. He’d only seen her look at a few people that way—Lydia and Edward, and one memorable time, Art Goodfriend. People she hated. “As if I’d want to go to prom with a nerd like you.”

Barry stepped back. He felt like she’d slapped him, though her hands were still tucked under her arms. In a moment, he’d understand what had happened—that he’d wounded her pride by laughing, that she didn’t mean what she was saying—but right then, all he could see was her hateful eyes, and behind them, nearly nineteen years of cruelty, of exclusion, of people thinking he wasn’t worth their time. He felt tears spring to his eyes, but he scrubbed them away, and with the most stable voice he could manage, he said, “Well fuck, Lup. You really are heartless.” And then he pushed past her, grabbed his bag, and went to have a full breakdown in his car.

On Saturday, a storm broke over Faerun, pelting the town with rain and sending out peals of thunder that seemed like they lasted for minutes. Magnus sent a message on the group chat; there would be no Amtguard due to lightning.

On Sunday morning, Barry’s phone alarm snapped him awake. He squinted at it, read _rehearse w/ lup_. No way she’d be there today. He turned off the alarm and went back to sleep.

So Barry didn’t see Lup again until fencing next Wednesday. It was still raining, and the roads were so bad he almost didn’t go. From the moment he walked in, he could feel electricity in the air. It was just as charged in the studio as it was outside.

At first, it didn’t seem so bad. Lup didn’t talk to him, didn’t look at him as they did their warm ups, and he didn’t try to talk to her, either. Ignoring her made it easier, made it seem like he hadn’t been tossed between anger and guilt for a week. Ghosting was a game he could play, too. All through exercises, they pretended the other didn’t exist. When Davenport had them both judge for Magnus on the first bout, they kept their eyes on Merle’s torso. Barry saw an off-target where Lup and Davenport saw a hit, and she let out a derisive snort when he gave his answer, but other than that, they might as well have been invisible to each other.

Except that was a complete lie. Barry was aware of her constantly. If he thought he couldn’t take his eyes off her before, this was a whole new kind of awareness. It was like her anger was actually giving off heat. He kept sneaking glances at her, and every time, seeing her stoney expression dropped his heart into his stomach.

Finally, Magnus beat Merle at a respectable 5-3, and Davenport called up Taako and Lucretia. “Barry, Lup, you’re on deck.”

Barry cringed.

Lup, on the other hand, said, “I don’t want to fight him.”

Everyone turned to look at Barry, who kept his eyes on the floor. “I don’t want to fight her either.”

Davenport considered the two of them for a moment, and then said, “Mavis, you ref this bout. You two follow me.” He walked, very calmly, to the waiting room. Barry followed him—what else could he do?—and Lup did too. Once they were away from the others, he turned to face them. Even though he was a head shorter than Barry, his stern gaze made Barry feel very small indeed.

“I will not tolerate this sort of behavior in my class,” he told them, evenly. “I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, but I need you to either put it behind you and act like the mature young people I know you are, or leave.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Lup tore off her glove. She turned and called, “Taako, I’ll meet you at the bus stop,” and began to shuck off the rest of her gear.

Davenport turned to Barry. There was a look on his face like he’d expected better of Lup—like he still expected better of Barry. But, fuck it, it wasn’t like he’d be able to fight properly after this anyway. “I’ll see you next week,” he told Davenport, and went to pack his own bag.

Barry was only a minute or two behind Lup in leaving the studio. The rain was coming down so hard it hurt as he ran to his car. It sounded like rocks were hitting the roof. He pulled out of the parking lot and into the flooded street, down to the corner where Lup was pressed against the building by the bus stop, only half-covered by a tattered awning. Her eyeliner was making its way down her cheeks, and even from the streets, he could see that she was shivering. A fist in his chest loosened.

He rolled down his window. “Lup!” he shouted over the rain.

“Nope!”

“Let me drive you home, please!”

“I don’t want to talk to you, _Barry_.”

It shocked him to hear her say his name properly, shocked him more by how much it hurt. She didn’t just say it, she spat it like a curse, like it was the worst word she could think of to describe him. He wasn’t the _Barold_ she and Taako affectionately teased, not the _Bar_ she played music with and talked to like a friend, not even the _Bluejeans_ she exclaimed at when he did something stupid. He was just _Barry_, and _Barry_ was all he’d ever be.

He rolled up his window and drove away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, these teens. 
> 
> Stay safe out there <3


	36. Chapter 36

“What was that all about?” Magnus asked Taako, watching Lup and Barry storm out of the studio. They were standing by the barre. Theoretically, Taako was picking up his mask and sword and Magnus was putting his down, but in practice everything in the studio had stopped.

“They got in this big fight last week, and then Barry stood Lup up on Saturday. She was crying when she got home.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. It’s been literal years since I’ve seen Lup cry.”

“Holy shit. Barry really stood her up? That doesn’t sound like him.”

Taako shrugged. He had his chin tucked close to his chest. “I don’t know. Like, probably not. But also I don’t think I care.”

“Really? If it’s just a misunderstanding—”

Taako pressed his palms together. “Listen. Can we—can we have this conversation somewhere else?”

“Course, man.” Magnus hit Taako lightly on the arm. “Cap’n’port? We need a minute.”

Davenport sighed but waved the boys off. They headed for the equipment room.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Magnus said.

Taako was swaying from side to side, not like he was unstable but like he couldn’t make himself stay still, a feeling Magnus knew well. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. So. Lup is—Lup is the strongest person I know, right? She’s a stone cold badass. And she was _crying_. I haven’t seen her cry since—since we lost our aunt. She’s not _stoic_ or anything, she just. She doesn’t let shit get to her. I mean, she’ll get mad or snappish or whatever, but not, like, sad. And Barry made her cry.” Taako looked down at his hands, curled them into fists. “Look, I know Barry. He’s a fucking good dude. I know what he did wasn’t on purpose. But I can’t imagine anyone knowing that Lup would let them _matter_ to her and not being _so fucking careful_ with it. I don’t know. It’s fucked up.”

“Shit, dude.” Magnus ran a hand through his sweaty hair. He couldn’t remember a time when Taako had said so many words about something serious all at once. “I mean, yeah, it’s pretty fucked. But you know, if they talk about it, maybe they’ll work it out.”

“Maybe.” Taako shook her head. “I don’t know how to cheer her up from this. I don’t know how to make this funny.”

“Do you have to?”

“Yeah. That’s how this works. Lup—I don’t think she knows that I know how much she does for me. But I do. And I don’t let on, because part of keeping her heart safe is not letting her know that _I _know she’s hurting.” Taako let out a humorless laugh. “Sorry, that’s kind of convoluted.”

“I think I’m following,” said Magnus, who almost was.

“So I make whatever’s going on funny, to keep her sane, and I stay glib and unaffected, I play the fucking fool or whatever, and that helps. It’s how we’ve been doing this since we were little.”

“Shit,” Magnus said again. He’d sort of known some of this—he’d watched Lup protect Taako and Taako calm Lup since they were in middle school—but to hear it all laid out made it sound both kinder and sadder than he’d perceived it being before. “Shit, Taako, I—”

“Shut up,” Taako said, rubbing his eyes. “I just—shut up, okay?”

So Magnus shut up. He just reached out and hugged his best friend.

_——————_

_Magnus: how’s she doing?_

_Taako: listening to avril levigne_

_Magnus: o fuck_

_Magnus: angry Avril or sad Avril?_

_Taako: sad avril. Sad Kelly Clarkson too :(_

_Magnus: fuuuuuck_

_Taako: yep_

_Magnus: can I do anything?_

_Taako: idk man. Idk what I can even do_

_Magnus: :((_

Taako slumped back on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He had homework that he was supposed to do, but honestly, who gave a fuck? There wasn’t any goddamn point. He lay there, listening to his sister listening to her breakup music and feeling worse than useless. He kept trying to think of things to say that would make her feel better, and coming up empty. Every joke seemed like it’d hurt her more, every distraction felt fucking hollow. He thought about texting Kravitz, who was so much better at all this emotion bullshit than he was, but when Kravitz heard he would want to come over, and Taako couldn’t face coming up with another lie to keep him away. More conversations he didn’t want to have.

_Crack!_

Taako sat bolt-upright, looking around for the source of the sound. Lup had scrambled to her feet, too.

“Was that a gunshot?”

_Crack!_ Came the sound again, and this time, Taako was paying enough attention to see the pebble hitting their bedroom window. “What the fuck,” he said, crossing to it and shoving it open. He ducked just as a third stone came sailing into the room, narrowly missing his ear. “Jesus _Christ!”_

“Magnus?” Lup said, incredulous.

Taako peered up over the windowsill, and there, indeed, was Magnus, grinning up at them. He was wearing a backpack and pajamas.

“What are you doing here?” Taako hissed, loud as he dared. “Our grandfather’s home!”

Magnus seemed to be trying to communicate through eyebrow movement alone. After a moment, he held up one finger, dropped his backpack on the grass, and took out a tub of rocky road ice cream.

Lup burst out laughing, and something in Taako’s chest unwound.

“Lup,” he said, “help me get the rope ladder.”

“Will it hold Magnus?”

“I guess we’ll find out.”

Taako hoisted up Lup’s mattress so she could grab the ladder. Magnus shouldered his backpack and took hold of the rope. When he put his weight on it, the bed frame squeaked worryingly but stayed put, and the ladder didn’t break. Magnus scrambled in through the window and fell in a heap on their floor.

“What the fuck, man?” Lup asked him, grinning.

“I wanted to help!” Magnus pulled the ice cream back out of his bag, along with three spoons.

The three of them sat cross-legged in a circle on the floor, eating ice cream directly out of the carton. Taako watched Lup—her eyes were still bloodshot, but she looked more alive than she had in days. She wiggled her spoon down into the ice cream to pry up some marshmallow, tongue poking out between her teeth, and when she accidentally flicked chocolate onto Magnus, she fell back on to her elbows, giggling.

The three of them kept quiet—their grandfather was right down the hall—but even with that hanging over their heads, Taako felt the air growing lighter. Magnus had brought oxygen in with his ice cream.

It took a distressingly short time for the three of them to kill the entire quart. When they were done, all sticky fingers and chocolate-covered mouths, Lup leaned into Magnus’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Of course. Hey—” he put his arm around her “—you know I got you.”

“Yeah.” She closed her eyes.

“You deserve the fucking world, Lup. Don’t let the bullshit get you down.”

———

Barry was alone. Physically—his roommate was out somewhere without him—but also, he thought, existentially. He’d been so preoccupied with Lup, with the horror of losing her trust, that he hadn’t realized until now how much else he’d lost. Taako and Magnus and Mavis and Angus were all her friends first. If she didn’t want them too, they’d never talk to him again. Julia and Carey would side with whoever Magnus sided with, and Noelle and Killian would follow Carey. Kravitz would side with Taako, obviously, and Taako was probably more angry at him than Lup was. Those two were so fiercely protective of each other. 

The thought warmed Barry in spite of himself. He loved them all so much. He’d loved Lup from the moment she came outside to see if he was okay that day at fencing, loved her even now when that love was complicated by anger and hurt, but he loved the rest of them too. He loved Taako’s sharp humor and quiet affection, Magnus’s warmth and buoyant energy. He loved tiny, brilliant Angus and the way he kept throwing himself at things to big for him. He loved the balance of ferocity and responsibility that made up Mavis. He loved Carey’s recklessness and Killian’s solidity and Noelle’s dry wit, loved Julia’s passionate sense of justice and the way Kravitz’s politeness hid his mischievous streak. He loved them all _so much_. 

And now he’d lost them. 

Sometimes, he thought, it felt like he was forever the lover, and never being loved in return. 

Which wasn’t fair. He could never expect them to choose him over Lup. It was only luck they hung out with him at all. He hadn’t deserved them to begin with, and they’d see that now. 

Barry knew he was spiraling. Self-pity was a waste of time. But then, _he_ was a waste of time, so did that matter? He let an arm dangle off the side of his lofted bed and threw the other across his eyes.

After a few moments of solid wallowing, his phone buzzed. Who the hell was texting him? Had someone forgotten an assignment? Barry fished his phone out from under his pillow.

_Magnus: You ok bro?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay safe, guys.
> 
> Also, Lup is fully listening to My Happy Ending during this chapter, in case you were curious.


	37. Chapter 37

_“Shit shit shit shit,” _Magnus muttered, rooting around in his backpack for his phone. “_Shit fuck shit_.” He hit Julia’s name on the screen and waited for her to pick up, pacing back and forth in front of his bed.

“Hey, Maggie, what’s up?” Her voice was casual, distracted, and it made Magnus absolutely weak at the knees. But he had to focus.

“Hey, Jules. I’m really sorry, I fucked up, I can’t make our date this Saturday. I just realized I have to go to Goldcliff for this scholarship thing and—”

“Wait, is this the art school thing?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought you already submitted that.”

“I did. But it turns out there’s like this award ceremony thing, and if you don’t show up, you can’t get the prize, and I’m probably not even going to win anyway, but—”

“Then go!”

“What?”

“Magnus, that’s so cool!” Julia’s voice was joyful, and it didn’t sound like she was faking it. “You absolutely have to go! Like, what if you do win? That’d be fucking huge!”

“I just—we never get to actually go on dates, and I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” The line was quiet for a moment, and then Julia said, “But hey, if you do get this scholarship, you’ll be buying me dinner for like four years, right?”

“Yeah.” Magnus heard his voice quiver, and winced. But God, four years—five, really, because they had another whole year before they even got to college. She thought they’d be together for five years. That was everything. “Thank you for understanding.”

“Of course, Maggie! Just like, promise you’ll call me the minute it’s over!”

“I will. I promise.”

“Okay, well, if that’s it, I have to get back to this stupid essay.”

“Right. Yeah, go do your homework.”

“Love you, Maggie.”

“I love you, Jules.”

——

Two days later, Magnus sat in a folding chair in the auditorium of the Goldcliff School of the Arts, itchy in a suit he hadn’t worn in a year. He almost hoped he wouldn’t win so he wouldn’t have to go up in front of all these people in a jacket with too-short sleeves. The applause for the 2D visual art winners faded, and the entries for 3D art were brought on stage. There were his Ducks in Flight, a sculpture that he’d thought was delicate and lovely back in his garage, but next to the other contestants, it looked rustic and silly. There was an olivewood bozai tree that shone under the spotlights, a set of delicate teacups depicting different seasons, a life-sized woman made of what looked like chicken wire and tissue paper—yeah, no way he was winning.

The announcers read out the descriptions and artist statements for each piece, and Magnus began to forget his self-consciousness. Everyone’s perspectives were fascinating, reminding him that what this really was was an opportunity to learn from other artists. No matter what happened up on stage, he’d have good questions to ask the other kids at the reception. Maybe he’d even make some friends! His fencing bros were great, of course, but they never understood when he talked about art stuff. Not even Kravitz, who was cool, but a strictly 2D kind of dude.

Third place was announced, and a blond boy took the stage to accept the prize for his futuristic-looking metal sculpture. Second place went to the olivewood tree, made by a round girl who wore her big duster up to the stage. Finally, the announcer produced the card for the grand prize. “The first prize for 3D Visual Art, which includes automatic acceptance and a full scholarship to Goldcliff School of the Arts goes to,” he read, and then paused. Everyone in the room was holding their breath. Magnus leaned forward. “Ducks in Flight, by Magnus Burnsides.”

At first, Magnus couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It was only his mother’s cheering and shaking him that got him to stand and walk, still dazed, to the stage. The announcer handed him a certificate, had him pose for a picture, and told him, away from the microphone, “I look forward to having you in class.”

As he returned to his seat, the reality of what had just happened began to sink in, and a huge grin split his face. How was he supposed to sit through the music presentations after this? “I’m going outside,” he whispered to his mother.

She smiled and squeezed his hand. “I’m really proud of you,” she whispered back.

Magnus stepped out of the auditorium and into the cool evening air. When he was reasonably sure the people inside couldn’t hear him, he whooped and shouted and jogged a full lap around the auditorium. Then, sweaty and feeling a little bit foolish, he sat down on a nearby bench and called Julia.

No answer.

Weird. Still, she didn’t expect the event to be over yet. She was probably still eating dinner. He texted her, _I WON!!!!!! Call me <3_, texted absolutely everyone else that he’d won, and went back inside.

He tried her again in the hallway outside the reception. Still no answer. He felt a twinge of worry in his gut, but reminded himself that expecting your girlfriend to be waiting for you to call one hundred percent of the time made you a shitty, controlling boyfriend, and that’s not what he was. So he went into the reception, and drank sparkling grape juice and ate tiny cubes of cheese and talked about art with cool teenagers and professors who seemed to be genuinely impressed by him.

He called her again in the car on the way home, and again when he got to his room. Nothing. He was worried now, for real, but he told himself he was being paranoid. Still, the worry mixed with the leftover adrenaline from winning kept him up late, bouncing from one project to another. He always had trouble focusing, but this was something else. He couldn’t make himself read or whittle or scroll twitter or anything for longer than a couple of minutes before he set it down and went looking for something else. Probably, he should be working on his history essay, but there was no way that was happening tonight.

Then, just after midnight he got a call from a number he didn’t recognize. Normally he wouldn’t answer a call from a stranger, but he was so restless that he picked up his phone without thinking.

“Hello, this is Magnus Burnsides.”

“Magnus? This is Steven Waxman, Julia’s dad.”

“Oh, hey! What’s going on?”

“Well, Magnus, there’s—there’s been an accident.”`

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're really in it now, guys. All I'll say is, I promise none of my tags are lies. 
> 
> If you need a break from angst, I wrote Carey and Killian's meet cute per prompts from chasingconstellations and LeapinGoldFish here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23722261/chapters/56965144


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW child abuse, a little more intense than previously. Take care of yourselves <3
> 
> Sorry, folks. It's gotta get worse before it gets better.

“FUCK YES!” Lup leapt from her bed and punched the air. “I’m in! Watch out, Neverwinter!” Lup figured she deserved some good fucking news after the last few weeks she’d had. Neverwinter U was her dream school, and nothing could stop her from getting away from this shitty town and all these bad feelings—

“That’s great, Lup.”

Taako’s strangled tone made her turn around. Taako was staring at his phone screen, looking stricken.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m—I’m waitlisted.”

Lup sat down next to her brother. “Shit. That sucks. I’m sorry.”

Taako turned his phone off and dropped it on the bed. “It’s whatever. It just means we didn’t get in any of the same places.”

“Oh,” Lup said again, and now she felt the way Taako’s face looked. “Fuck.”

“It’s—it’s fine. I just won’t start this semester. You want to got to Neverwinter U, right? I’ll, like, get a job at a restaurant or something, and we can still share an apartment and—”

“No.” Lup grabbed Taako’s shoulders and made him look her in the eye. “I won’t let you sacrifice your future like that.”

“It’s only one semester. I’ll apply again for the spring.”

“And if you still don’t get in?”

“I’ll keep trying. Or I’ll find a community college or something.”

“Taako. You got into the fucking Rockport Culinary Academy! You can’t just throw that away.”

“I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Lup sighed and let her brother go. “It’s not like we were going to be together for the rest of our lives, anyway.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Taako’s voice was low and level, and that’s how Lup knew he was furious. If he were merely angry, his voice would squeak and dip, but he was past that now.

So she tried to backtrack. “I didn’t mean—”

“I think you did.”

“Just, maybe it’ll be good for us to see who we are… alone.”

“I don’t want to know who I am alone.”

“Well, maybe I do.” Lup didn’t know it was true until she said it, but once it was out, she couldn’t deny it. “We’ve shared a room for eighteen years, Taako. And I love you so much, you’re my heart, but I don’t know who I am if I’m not—well, if I’m not protecting you.”

“_Protecting me?”_

“Yeah! I’ve been keeping you safe our whole fucking lives! You’ve always been my priority and listen, I don’t regret it for a minute, but maybe _I_ should be my priority for a little bit.”

Taako gaped at her. She almost never saw him lost for words, and that silence bit into her deeper than anything he could have said. Why was she always saying the wrong thing lately? What was _wrong_ with her?

Finally, he said, “I didn’t realize that’s how you saw it. I thought we were protecting each other.”

“Taako, I—”

“No, I get it. I know I’m a coward. It’s—it’s whatever.” He picked his phone back up and started typing something on it, effectively ending the conversation.

Lup went back to her own bed. The screen of her school laptop still showed the acceptance letter. She shut it.

She wished she could call Barry, or at least text him, but that option was off the table. Maybe she could talk to Magnus—but no, he just won that scholarship thing. She shouldn’t bring him down on a night like this.

And then Taako’s phone rang.

“Magnus, my dude, what is up!” Taako said, in a fair approximation of his usual voice. And then, “Oh shit. Fuck, man, I’m sorry. Yeah, we’ll do what we can. I’ll call you back.” He set down the phone and looked at her, eyes huge. “Julia’s in the hospital. Magnus said it’s bad. His mom’s asleep and he says he needs to get to Raven’s Roost.”

“Shit. Fuck. Yeah, he does. Can you call Kravitz?”

“I was just trying to text him, but I think he’s asleep. And Carey can’t leave school this late.”

“Could we ask one of the grown ups? Merle or Lucretia or—”

“They all work. Why would they be up?”

“We should try anyway.”

So they did. Lup called Lucretia and Taako called Merle, and both of them left frantic but fruitless voice mail messages. Then Lup tried Davenport and Taako tried Kravitz, and out of desperation, the office phone at the dance studio, but it was nearly one AM. No one was picking up.

Lup pressed a hand to her forehead. “Who else do we know with a car?”

“Barry.”

Just hearing his name was like a punch to the stomach. “I—I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Fine.” Taako stood up and started heading for the door.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“I’m going to get Grandpa’s keys from his room.”

“Taako, if he catches you—”

“I know. But if you’re not going to be _protecting_ me,” he spat out the word like it was poison, “I better start being fucking brave.” He flashed her a cold, fake smile, and then left the room.

——————

Taako crept down the silent hallway toward his grandfather’s bedroom. He was still seething from the fight with Lup (God, a fight with Lup, words he almost never had to think in that order), but Magnus’s voice, the fear in it, had cut through all that. He didn’t know Julia super well still, but he knew Magnus, and he knew how much it took to scare him. How much it took for him to ask for help.

The door let out a quiet whine when he pushed on it, and Taako froze, but his grandfather’s noisy breathing didn’t even pause.

In hindsight, maybe he should have realized that that was unusual.

He snuck to the bedside table, where his grandfather’s keys lay next to his wallet, glasses, and—ugh—his teeth in a glass. Taako picked up the keys, careful not to let them clink together or scrape too loudly against the wood of the table. He held them tight, teeth cutting into his palms, and dared a glance at his grandfather. He was a dark, unmoving shape on the bed.

Taako let himself exhale. He turned to go.

Then, a hand reached out of the darkness, quicker than anyone that age should be allowed to move, and clamped down on his wrist.

Taako’s grandfather shoved him, disoriented and bleeding, back into his room and slammed the door behind him. Taako slumped onto the bed, eyes down, holding his head in his hands. Lup scrambled from her bed and knelt in front of him.

“Taako, are you okay?”

“Sorry,” he said. Fuck, it hurt to talk. “Couldn’t get the keys.”

Lup gently pulled his hands from his face, and winced. He must look like absolute shit. He certainly felt like it. “I’ll kill that old bastard,” she said.

“Later. Gotta help Magnus.”

“Taako, you’re hurt! Like, bad. He’ll understand that we can’t do anything.”

“It doesn’t matter.” His nose had stopped bleeding, at least, so he wouldn’t get any blood on his bedspread. His pajama shirt was fucked though. “I said we’d help him.”

“You’ve proved your point. You don’t have to keep trying to be brave.”

Taako snapped his head up to look at his sister, and fuck, that hurt too, but he held her gaze anyway. “This might be shocking, Lup, but this isn’t actually about you. This is about _our friend_ Magnus, whose girlfriend is maybe dying, and who needs our fucking help.”

Lup stared at him for a moment, and then said, much quieter, “She’s dying?”

“I’m not sure. Magnus said the doctors weren’t sure.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

Lup stood up and crossed to her bed. She picked up her phone and prodded at it for a moment, then held it to her ear. “Hey Barry? Sorry if I woke you. I need your help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay safe out there!


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW hospital setting

_I’m here, _Barry texted. The darkness pressed in around his car and anxiety curled in his stomach. Possibly he shouldn’t be doing this. He was technically a growunup, and the twins and Magnus technically weren’t, and helping them sneak out in the middle of the night was maybe kidnapping and for sure frowned upon. But if Lup had called him—called _him, _after everything—then ethics didn’t really matter. His friends were the only thing that mattered.

Barry watched as Lup and Taako climbed out of their bedroom window with a kind of practiced ease that was genuinely worrying. Lup slid into the front seat without a word, and Taako climbed in the back. There was something almost normal about it, as if he were just going to drive them to Raven’s Roost for another fencing tournament. Then, he heard Taako say into his phone, “We’re on our way, bro. Hang in there,” and Lup whispering, “Drive,” and the reality of the situation began to really set in. He floored it all the way to Magnus’s house.

Magnus let himself out his front door and sat in the back seat next to Taako. “I left a note for my mom,” he said, and his voice was so thin and quiet that Barry hardly recognized it.

“Good idea,” he said. “Can one of you navigate?”

Lup said, “I’ve got it.”

It was quiet in the car on the way to the hospital. When Lup had to give Barry instructions, she kept them brief. Taako pressed his head against the window and closed his eyes. Magnus kept checking and rechecking his phone and shifting in his seat, but he didn’t say anything.

It was a forty-five minute drive from Faerun to Raven’s Roost, and then it took another ten minutes for Barry to find the hospital and park. It was past two am, then, and although Barry probably would still have been awake anyway, he was starting to feel weird. The highways were almost completely empty, and the blueish lights in the parking lot cast everything in an eerie glow, as if they’d stepped out of time.

Magnus didn’t seem to notice the odd atmosphere. He charged out of the car and into the hospital lobby, the others panting as they tried to keep up. He crashed through the doors and into the receptionist’s desk. The woman behind the desk looked understandably quite startled.

“Where’s Julia?” Magnus demanded, his voice low and inches from shattering.

“Excuse me?” said the woman.

Barry gripped his side where it ached from the running. “Sorry,” he said, trying to sound professional without actually having working lungs. “We’re looking for Julia Waxman. We understand she was admitted here earlier this evening.”

“Waxman,” the receptionist repeated softly, turning to her computer screen. She pursed her lips. “What’s your relationship to her?”

“I’m her boyfriend,” said Magnus, before Barry could signal to him to lie.

The receptionist sighed. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid only family is allowed in the ICU. You’ll have to wait here.”

Magnus’s eyes were huge. “The ICU—that means she’s really hurt, right?”

“Well, it can mean a number of different—hey!”

Magnus had broken away from the group, pushing through the doors behind the desk at a full sprint and disappearing down the hall. Taako let out a burst of shrill, hysterical laughter as he watched him go, grabbing Lup and Barry’s arms to stay upright.

The receptionist reached for a phone on her desk, but Barry said, “Wait!”

When she looked up at him, he said, “I promise, you don’t need to call security. He won’t hurt anyone. He’ll come back as soon as he sees that she’s alive.”

Her expression was doubtful. Her hand stayed on the receiver.

“What if—what if you called the nurse on duty there? They can keep an eye on him, send him back without getting him in trouble.”

“Ma’am,” Lup cut in, “we just drove all the way from Faerun in the middle of the night so he could see his girlfriend. Please don’t call security on him.”

“Please,” Taako added, flashing her the saddest eyes Barry had ever seen.

With the full might of the twins thrown at her, plus a reasonable alternative suggestion from Barry, the receptionist didn’t stand a chance. She sighed and said, “Fine. I’ll call the ICU.”

The three of them stumbled over their thank yous and retreated to the set of orange padded seats by the door. For the first time, Barry noticed that the twins were wearing their pajamas under their jackets. It was almost disconcerting to see them in something that wasn’t excruciatingly stylish or fencing whites. Which was not to say, he thought, that they looked bad. Even in a tank top and drawstring shorts, Lup managed to be stunning, and Taako—

Oh _fuck._

Taako had a bruise over half his face. Barry might have called it a black eye, if it didn’t extend so much further than just his eye. It spilled over onto his cheek and the bridge of his nose. Barry felt a twinge of sympathy in his own head, and then a much worse twinge of guilt in his gut. Even with the darkness and the panic, he should have noticed, he should have said something.

“Taako,” he said finally, “what happened?”

Taako’s hand went to his face, as if he were trying to hide the injury.“Nothing. I’m—I’m going to find a vending machine. I need caffeine.”

“Taako—“ Barry began, but Lup took his arm gently.

“Let him go,” she said. “He’ll talk to us when he’s ready.”

Barry wasn’t completely convinced, but he let Lup lead him to one of the chairs. When they sat down, she let go of him with a jerk, like she’d just noticed they were touching. She folded her hands between her knees and stared at them, shoulders slumped.

“Are you—are you cold?” Barry asked her.

“No, I’m fine.”

“Can I—“

“Barry, I called you for Magnus, not for me.”

“I get that. I didn’t mean to, I don’t know, be pushy.”

“Whatever.” Lup hunched down further. She pulled out her phone and began texting someone.

Barry tilted his head back, staring up at the ceiling. He hated this. He hated worrying about Julia, about Taako, about Magnus, hated the thought that if Lup had her way, he wouldn’t even _know_ to be worried about them. He hated that she wouldn’t talk to him, wouldn’t let him help, and he hated the knowledge that it was all his fault. He hated himself.

Lup made a small sound, and his focus snapped back to her. She had her face in her hands, and her shoulders were shaking.

“Oh, shit, Lup,” he said, throwing an arm around her before he had a chance to second-guess the gesture. “It’s gonna be okay.”

She said something too muffled to make out.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you.”

“It’s my fault,” she said, lifting her head ever so slightly from her hands. “Taako’s face. It’s my fault.”

“Lup—“

“I was so stupid. I told him—I don’t even want to—and then he snuck into Grandpa’s room and—“

“Then it’s your grandfather’s fault,” Barry said firmly. “If he hurt Taako, that’s on him, not you.”

She shook her head, but didn’t say anything. Instead, she leaned into Barry, resting her forehead against his shoulder. He rubbed her back gently, trying to act calm and centered. She needed him calm and centered, and he cared about what she needed, even still.

Eventually, she pulled away, wiping her eyes on her coat sleeve. “Sorry to blubber on you,” she said.

“It’s okay.”

“And—and sorry more broadly, I guess, too. I shouldn’t have gotten so defensive, and fucking, like, done the exact thing you were insecure about.”

“Yeah, well. I shouldn’t have done the thing you were insecure about.”

“But you didn’t even do it on purpose, and like, I was just so—I, like, like you a lot, okay? And when you laughed at me—I knew like twenty seconds later what was happening but I just, it was too scary and I—I said the shittiest thing I could because, I don’t know, I couldn’t do it. You know. And then I was going to apologize but you fucking stood me up and I was like, fuck, I’ve blown it forever and I was so angry—”

“Wait,” said Barry. “What do you mean I stood you up?”

“Last Sunday? Our music practice?”

Another wave of belated guilt washed over Barry. He pressed his hands to his mouth, drawing away from Lup. “Oh my God, I’d just assumed you weren’t going to go to that. I didn’t mean to stand you up, I promise. Fuck, did you—did you walk there in the rain? And back?”

Lup’s mouth quirked, just slightly. “Yeah, I did.”

“Oh, Lup, I’m so fucking sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Yeah, I see that now. I was real fucked up about it, though.”

“I’m sorry,” Barry said again. He wanted to say it over and over again, so she would know just how awful he felt, but he knew from experience that people found that annoying. So he just said it one more time: “I’m sorry.”

Lup sighed. “I forgive you. Do you forgive me? It’s fine if not, I know what I said was so awful, I just—”

“I forgive you,” Barry said, simply.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I mean, like, maybe don’t do it again, but. Yeah. I know how much it takes for you to open up like that, and I laughed. For the record, I was only laughing because, like, I’ve had a crush on you for _months_ and I couldn’t believe that you—fuck.” Barry’s hands were over his mouth again. He hadn’t meant to say that. He was just trying to be comforting, to be honest, to let her know that he understood and wasn’t mad at her anymore. He hadn’t meant to fucking _confess his love_.

“You have a crush on me?” Lup asked.

No point in denying it now. “I do.”

“And I have a crush on you?”

Barry had no idea how to process this. He felt like his brain was shorting out. “I, uh—”

“Then _why are we doing this?_” Lup sounded like she was on the edge of tears again.

And then, before Barry had a chance to formulate a response, she leaned over and kissed him.

Over the months he’d known her, Barry had imagined what it might be like to kiss Lup a thousand times. Never seriously, never thinking it was any kind of attainable goal, but still, he’d imagined it. He’d thought it would be fire, overwhelming, burning him to nothing. He’d thought that having all of her attention on him would crush him, that there would be so much of _her_ that there wouldn’t be any space left for him.

He’d been wrong.

With Lup’s mouth on his, her shoulder cold against his palm, her hand cupping the back of his head, he felt more real, more present in his body, than he ever had before. Lup was kissing him, and she was doing it on purpose, and there was no room in him for insecurity or self-loathing or anxiety. There was only the two of them.

There was only joy.

Finally, Lup pulled away. She was breathing hard. So was he. The stayed close for a moment, foreheads touching, breathing in each other, and then Lup sat back in her chair.

“Goddamn,” she said, still sounding like she was about to cry. “We could have been doing that for _months_, Barold! We’re so stupid!”

Barry cracked up, and Lup did too, both of them laughing and clutching each other until tears streamed from their eyes. Finally, when Barry recovered enough to be able to speak, he asked, “Does that mean we should be making up for lost time?”

“Oh my God, yes!”

And so he kissed her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost broke and posted this chapter early like ten times this week. I've been sitting on it for so long, and now it's out in the world! (and now my buffer is gone oops)


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Hospital Setting, description of injuries

Magnus pushed past the receptionist and through the double doors that led to the rest of the hospital, running as fast as he could. His heart pounded in his ears. The ICU. Julia was in the ICU. What did that mean? Steven hadn’t said, just that Julia was in critical condition. He hadn’t even actually told Magnus to come, although how was he supposed to do anything else?

Magnus skidded to a halt in front of a directory. The letters were tiny, and he was so panicked he could barely read them, but there it was—the ICU, fourth floor. And then below that, the Pediatric ICU, fifth floor. Pediatric meant kids, right? Were they kids? Probably. So. Fifth floor. Magnus started running again, looking around wildly for a staircase or—there--an elevator! He hit the up button over and over again until the doors finally opened, then leaned on the button for the fifth floor all the way up. The elevator was infuriatingly slow. He should have taken the stairs. What if, while he was stuck standing here—but that thought was too terrible to finish. Julia was fine. She was strong, and brilliant, and she was fine, she was fine.

He wouldn’t let himself consider the alternative. It was impossible. It wasn’t allowed.

Magnus burst through the elevator doors before they were all the way open and started sprinting down the hall. The mint-green walls and white doors all looked the same. How was he supposed to tell where he was? The hospital was a maze, a rabbit’s warren, a trap. His eyes were burning. Someone tried to say something to him, but he ignored them. He took turn after turn, completely at random, too deeply freaking out to slow down, to focus, to come up with a logical solution.

But, it turned out that the Raven’s Roost hospital was not actually that big, and eventually he found himself in front of the swinging double doors to the Pediatric ICU. He shouldered through them, disrupting the sleepy two AM scene. The nurse shot to her feet, and bleary-eyed parents peered around curtains to look at him. “Sir, you can’t be in here,” the nurse said, but one of the parents staring at him was Steven Waxmen, who had also stood up and was now walking up to Magnus. To Magnus’s surprise, Steven threw his arms around him.

“Mr. Waxmen,” Magnus said. “How—how is she?”

“She’s sleeping,” he said. “She’s—they think she’s going to be okay.”

Magnus sagged with relief. “Can I see her?”

The nurse had finally gotten to them. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but we just got a call from the front desk. Only family is allowed in the ICU. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Give us ten minutes,” Steven said.

The nurse pursed her lips.

“Five minutes,” Magnus said. “Please. I—I love her.”

The nurse must have heard how close Magnus’s voice was to shattering, because she sighed and said, “Five minutes. No more. And wash your hands before you go in there.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Steven put a hand on Magnus’s arm and led him to a curtained-off space near the back of the room. He paused at a hand sanitizer dispenser, washed his hands, and indicated that Magnus should, too.

When they were both clean, Steen held the curtain aside for Magnus to enter. Inside, it was darker, although the curtains didn’t block all the fluorescent light from the main room. There was a hospital bed inside, a monitor for vital signs, two padded plastic chairs. And Julia.

Both her arms and one of her legs were in casts. There was plaster on her torso and her shoulder, and some of the hair above her right eyebrow had been shaved the doctors could stick up a long gash. Every bit of her skin that was exposed was bruised, from her fingers to her face, although it seemed worse on her right side. But her chest was rising and falling, and the heart monitor beeped steadily.

“Three broken ribs,” Steven said in a low, almost robotic voice. “One broken arm, one broken wrist, spiral fracture on her right leg. Broken collarbone. She has that gash on her forehead, but thank God, her skull is fine. No internal bleeding there, no punctured lungs. The doctors said it was close. If she’d landed just a little bit differently, she could have had serious damage to her head, or her spine.”

Magnus hadn’t noticed when he’d started crying. Silent tears slid down his face, and he didn’t bother wiping them away. He moved to where he would see her face more clearly. Her cheeks were bruised and her lips were cracked, but there she was. Julia. Shattered, but alive.

He bent over her hand, careful not to move it in case that made things worse, and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “I’m here,” he whispered. “I’m here, Jules. I love you.”

She didn’t move.

Steven put a hand on his shoulder. “She’s on a lot of pain medicine,” he said. “She won’t wake up until the morning, probably.”

“I know. I just—can I just sit with her?”

“Of course,” Steven said.

Magnus pulled up one of the chairs and perched at the edge of it, so he could keep his forehead on Julia’s hand. Now that the adrenaline was fading, he was staring to feel weak and shaky, and nauseous with fear. 

“What happened?” he asked, not lifting his head.

“She was helping some theater friends hang banners,” Steven said. “They said she was up on a ladder, apparently ten or so feet up, and it fell. One kid said someone pushed it, but I don’t—who would want to hurt her? My Julia.”

“Kalen,” Magnus said, without hesitation. “Kalen did this.”

“The—the kid she ran against for student council?”

How was it that adults never knew anything? “I’m going to fucking kill him. If Julia doesn’t get better, I’m going to kill him.”

It had been more than five minutes now, but the nurse hadn’t come over to tell him to leave, and so Magnus stayed. He clung to Julia, lightly, careful not to hurt her, but clinging nonetheless. He felt that if he let go of her, that would be it. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t let her go.

Eventually, the nurse did come in. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder and said, “Young man, I think it’s time for you to leave.”

“I’ll let you know if anything changes,” Steven promised.

“Thank you, sir.” Magnus wiped his eyes. “I’ll go, ma’am. Thanks for letting me see her.”

“Sure thing, sugar,” the nurse said. “You know how to find the elevator?”

“Um…”

“I’ll get Jenny to walk you.”

Jenny turned out to be a nursing student doing a residency. She’d been napping in an empty office, but she didn’t seem upset about being woken to guide Magnus to the elevator. “It beats another car wreck,” she told him.

Magnus stumbled out of the elevator and back into the lobby to find Lup and Barry fully making out on one of the plastic chair-benches. Despite how tired and shaken he was, he smiled to himself when he saw them. About damn time.

He also saw Taako, lurking at the edge of the opposite hallway, a paper coffee cup in his hands. Magnus headed over to him. “Hey, bro.”

“Hey,” Taako said. “How’s Julia.”

“Bad,” Magnus admitted. “But she’ll make it. How are you?” Magnus had noticed Taako’s black eye on the drive up, but he knew Taako well enough to not bring it up without offering him a way out of the conversation. Also, his girlfriend had maybe been dying, and much as he loved Taako, Taako was _not _dying.

“I’m fine,” Taako said.

“Uh huh.” Magnus pulled at the collar of his shirt. “It’s eight hundred degrees in here. Want to take a walk?”

“Sure. Whatever.”

Magnus led the way out the sliding glass doors and into the cool evening air. There was a strip of grass and low bushes on either side of the door, a tiny bit of landscaping between the hospital and the parking lot. Yellow lights shone down from the awning, darkened with dead bugs. Magnus stepped over the bushes and into the lane of grass. He checked over his shoulder—Taako was following him, chin tucked against his chest. Magnus paused to let him catch up.

“Don’t say I told you so,” Taako said, leaning against the hospital wall.

“I wouldn’t,” said Magnus, just a tiny bit indignant.

“Whatever,” Taako said again.

“_Do _you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Do you want to talk at all?”

“I—This is so stupid. Why are you comforting me? I should be fucking comforting you. What happened to Julia?”

Magnus sighed. “That fucking Kalen kid pushed her off a ladder. She’s got like eighty broken bones, but she’ll be okay. They think she’s gonna be okay.”

“Good.”

“If she’s not okay, I’m going to kill Kalen.” Magnus said it flatly, no drama, just facts.

“I’ll help,” said Taako. “You said he’s some rich asshole, right? Dibs on his stuff.”

Magnus laughed a little and bumped fists with Taako. “Thanks, man.”

“She will be okay, though. Have you seen her fence? I’ve never seen someone so unfazed by Edward and Lydia’s bullshit. She’s so tough. Hey, man, she’ll be fine.”

Taako’s hand was on his arm. Magnus realized belatedly that he was shaking again. He ran his hands through his hair, and found it still stiff with the gel he’d worn to the ceremony in Goldcliff. Had that only been earlier this evening?

“We should get you some ice,” Magnus said, changing the subject.

“I don’t want to go in,” said Taako.

“Why?”

“I don’t—Lup and I had a fight. I don’t want to deal with it.”

Magnus blinked at him. “You two fought?”

“Yup.” Taako kicked at the ground. “I’m so fucking stupid.”

“Is Lup okay?”

“What do you mean, is _Lup _okay?”

“She fought with you and she fought with Barry. She can be, I don’t know, snappish to people she doesn’t like, but she doesn’t usually fight with _us_.” Magnus made a circular gesture to indicate Barry and Taako.

“Whatever,” Taako said again, but less forcefully this time. His forehead was furrowed.

“Thank you for getting Barry to get me. And thank you for coming with me.”

“Sure thing, man.” Taako balled up a fist and tapped Magnus’s arm with it, a tired and deliberate version of his usual gesture. “Thanks for asking.”

Magnus leaned back against the hospital wall, gazing out over the parking lot and the mountains beyond. His heart rate was beginning to return to normal. Julia was going to be okay. And then he saw a figure in a dark coat making their way across the parking lot. He straightened, trying to see better, and then elbowed Taako.

“Is that Kravitz?”


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Hospital Setting

Kravitz parked his mom’s car in the parking deck and headed for the hospital door, walking fast. He was so panicked he nearly walked right past Taako and Magnus, who were standing together just outside the light spilling down from the hospital awning. He wouldn’t have seen them at all if Taako hadn’t seen him first.

“Kravtiz? What are you doing here?”

Just the sound of his voice. Kravitz felt his heart rate return to normal. He turned and finally saw the two boys. Taako was leaning against the wall, chin down, face hidden in shadows. Magnus, poor guy, was beside him, paler than Kravitz had ever seen him and sweating heavily.

“Um, hi. I got your messages.You didn’t pick up when I called, so I texted Lup, and she said you were here.”

“Well. I am.” There was an odd lifelessness to Taako’s voice that Kravitz had never heard before.

Magnus looked from Kravitz to Taako and back. “I’m, uh, going to go check on Barry and Lup.”

“You do that,” said Taako, still in that strange, flat voice, and Magnus hurried inside.

“Hi,” Kravitz said again when they were alone.

“Hi.”

“Is—is everyone okay?”

“Not really. Julia’s in the ICU, but they think she’s going to pull through. And Magnus isn’t doing great.”

“What about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your friend is in the hospital! Your voice on those messages—I get it if you don’t want to talk about it, but you don’t have to pretend you’re fine. Not with me.”

“I _am_ fine.”

Taako lifted his chin defiantly, but the shadow under his right eye stayed in place. That’s when Kravitz realized it wasn’t a shadow at all, but a huge bruise that covered Taako’s whole right eye and dipped down onto his cheek. Kravitz clasped a hand to his mouth, almost without noticing he was doing it. Shock turned into panic turned into rage turned into fear, and all he could manage to say was, “What happened?”

“I tried to be sneaky. I wasn’t. Let’s not make a thing out of it.” Taako folded his arms, tucked in his shoulders.

“Are you—are you sure?” Kravitz took a step closer. “You look really bad.”

Taako rolled his eyes. “Just what I always wanted to hear from my boyfriend.”

“I’m serious. We’re at a hospital—maybe you should go inside and get it looked at.”

“Yeah, right, me and what insurance? Like, fuck, if my grandpa even saw something like this on my bank statement, he’d—well, it’d be bad.”

Kravtiz suddenly found it hard to breathe. “Forgive me if I’ve got this wrong, but—did your grandfather do that to you?”

Taako didn’t respond.

“Taako?”

“I told you not to make fucking thing out of it. It doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, it does. It’s your _face_, Taako, and I—”

“You’re right, it’s _my_ fucking face, and I say it doesn’t matter. Why won’t you leave me alone?” Taako was shouting, now, voice breaking. Kravitz had never heard him yell like this before.

“Why won’t _you _talk to me? I just want to help.”

Taako opened his mouth like he was going to shout again, then looked around the parking lot and stepped closer to Kravitz. More of his face was in the light, now, and Jesus fuck there was green and purple in his bruise, and flakes of dried blood under his nose. Kravitz itched to gather him up in his arms, tell him he would take care of him—but Taako still had his arms folded, his posture withdrawn, and Kravitz thought maybe hugging him now would do more harm than good.

Taako kept his eyes on his shoes and said, quietly, “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

Whatever Kravitz had expected him to say, that was not it. “What—what do you mean?”

“I just—I like you a lot, okay? And I want you to keep liking me, too. So I wasn’t going to act like this in front of you. I guess I’ve fucked that right up now, so like, sorry about that.”

Kravitz blinked at him. “Taako, I’m not going to just stop liking you. I want you to tell me when things are bad, just like I tell you. We’re supposed to support each other. Isn’t that the whole fucking point?”

Taako was shaking, now. Kravitz could see it even from three paces away.

“Just talk to me. Please.”

“Okay. Okay.” Taako opened his hands, laying them palm-up like he was giving something to Kravitz. “This is about to sound really pathetic, so like, gird your loins for that—”

Kravitz let out a breath that was halfway to a laugh, and Taako looked a little more stable.

“—but like, everyone I’ve ever loved has—has left me. Ever since my parents died, Lup and I have been pushed from home to home. As soon as they get to know us—get to know me—they can’t stand having me around anymore. The only reason Grandpa’s kept us as long as he has is that he never _bothered_ to get to know us. And like, did you know I’ve never broken up with anyone? I’ve been dumped every single time. And now Lup is leaving me, and I just can’t lose you too, Krav, I just—” Taako pressed a hand to his mouth, tears overflowing his eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be putting all this on you. It’s manipulative and shitty of me and I—”

Now, Kravitz did hug him. Taako pressed his forehead into Kravitz’s shoulder and clung to his shirt. Kravitz stroked his hair. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Eventually,Taako’s trembling grew less violent, and he pulled back a little, looking into Kravitz’s eyes for the first time that night. “God, you’re so good,” he said. “You deserve better than a hideous ball of issues like me.”

Kravitz couldn’t help laughing at that, just a little. “Taako, I was crazy about you even before I found out how brave you were. You’ve been coping with so much bullshit for so long. I—love you, Taako, and when you go out into the real world, everyone is going to love you, and nothing is going to change that.”

Taako let out a watery laugh and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “That was actually a test; I’m amazing.”

“You are,” Kravitz said very seriously, and kissed him.

It was _so _nice.

—————

A few minutes later, the automatic doors to the hospital whooshed open, and there were Kravitz and Taako, hand in hand. Taako’s bruise was just as gnarly as it had been, but the muscles in his face and shoulders had relaxed a little. Mostly, now, he looked tired.

Lup stood up as the boys approached. Magnus and Barry stood, too. She was still holding Barry’s hand. “Hey, dingus,” she said.

Taako looked at her for a moment, and then smiled just a little. “Hey, goofus.”

And then they were hugging.

There must have been a moment where Lup made the choice to let go of Barry’s hand and take the several steps to meet Taako, but her brain had edited it out. One moment they were looking at each other across the hospital lobby, and the next they were in each other’s arms. His chin was poking into her shoulder, but she didn’t mind.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, voice wobbly.

They stayed like that for a long time, past caring that the others were watching them. When they finally let go, they stayed close together, shoulder to shoulder.

Barry cleared his throat. “We should probably get going.”

Magnus nodded. “I’m more tired than I’ve ever been in my entire life.”

“Pretty much,” Taako agreed.

They trooped out of the lobby and into the parking lot. Lup found Barry’s hand again.

“Do you want me to drive you back?” Kravitz asked Taako.

“Yeah, that’d be dope.”

“Are we not invited?” Lup said, all fake sweet.

“Um?” Kravitz said, his voice pitching higher.

Lup laughed. “I’m kidding. I won’t wait up for you, Taako. Oh, but before we spit up—Magnus, can we crash at your place tonight?”

“Of course! Fuck, I wish you would.”

Taako looked at his shoes. “That’s—thank you, Magnus.”

“You got it, man.”

The two groups exchanged hugs and fist bumps, and then climbed into their respective cars.

“If I lay down on the back seat,” Magnus said, “do you promise not to get into any wrecks?”

“No,” said Barry. “Put your seatbelt on.”

Magnus groaned, but he sat up and buckled himself in.

Barry pulled out of the parking lot and headed back for the highway. “So, um. I don’t know if this is—if I’m like overstepping or anything, but does this mean we’re on for prom?”

“I can’t go to prom.”

“Wait, why?”

“Money, mostly. Grandpa decided it’s frivolous, and if he won’t spring for it—tickets are seventy five bucks. I blew all my money on Halloween costume shit and I have to save every scrap I’ve gotten since for college. So.”

“That sucks.”

“Yup. It’s whatever, it doesn’t really matter. But, um.” Lup tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’d still like to, you know, go out with you sometime.”

“Good. Yeah. Great.” The relief in Barry’s voice was clear.

“Hey,” she said, “I’m not just gonna make out with you in a hospital and then start ignoring you or some shit!”

He laughed, and Magnus laughed from the back seat, and they sped off into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay safe guys <3


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: discussion of war and death

Angus was not the kind of person who put stock in vibes. He was analytical person. He collected evidence, looked at objectively, and came to conclusions based on facts. Sometimes, detectives in books followed “hunches”; those were almost always poorly written books. 

And yet, the vibes at fencing were _super _weird. 

Some of it was because of what had gone down last weekend. The older kids had told him and Mavis all about driving to Raven’s Roost in the middle of the night, about Julia’s injury and Barry and Lup making up. Magnus was actually leaving early so he could go see Julia, who was awake and more or less lucid. It had been a few days, but they were all still exhausted, and frankly, fencing like shit. 

Still, everything had turned out okay. They were tired but _happy_. That shouldn’t have been why Angus was feeling so extra anxious. 

Having ruled out the teenagers, he turned his attention to the adults. Davenport seemed normal. He was giving Taako a hard time about crossing his feet when he redoubled; he was probably not the problem. Lucretia and Merle were standing next to each other, which was also normal. They often talked to each other in moments of down time, or just watched the others’ shenanigans together. Angus had long thought that maybe Merle would like to be part of the shenanigans, but Mavis would have flipped if he suggested it. 

So, their closeness was normal. But also, it was _not _normal. They were talking _quietly_. Lucretia was quiet sometimes, but Merle was not. And yet, here he was, while they were supposed to be listening to Davenport, having some quiet little conversation. 

Yeah, that was weird. 

Lucretia looked over her shoulder at Angus; she must have felt him staring. She frowned. Her eyebrows were drawn tight, and her jaw was tense. Angus’s stomach dropped to the floor. _Oh,_ he thought, I’m in_ trouble._

Angus intended to make a quick exit when class was over. He didn’t even bother changing—he’d walk home in his fencing whites. He was just reaching for the door handle when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

“Hold on, kiddo,” Merle said. “Your granddad wants you to have dinner with us tonight.” 

“He does?” Angus said, his voice fully cracking.

“Yep. Check your phone.”

Angus fished his phone out of his street pants. Sure enough, there was a text from his grandfather saying he was to eat with the Highchurches. Normally, Angus would be thrilled. He liked eating with Merle and Mavis, and honestly didn’t mind Mookie. But today, with the weird looks from Lucretia and the way she and Merle seemed to be in cahoots, the thought made him a little nauseous. 

But he was thirteen, and his autonomy was limited, so he waited for Mavis and Merle to be dressed and followed them to where Merle’s car was parked. Mavis had beaten Taako, and was in high spirits. She talked enough to cover Angus’s anxious silence, all the way until Merle turned right at the end of the street, further into downtown. 

“Merle,” she said, “isn’t your apartment the other way?”

“Yep,” he said. “We’re making a quick stop first.”

“Where?”

“We’re gonna have tea at Lucretia’s.”

Mavis glanced at Angus, eyes huge.

Angus pulled out his phone and texted her, _I think we’re caught._

Mavis mouthed _fuck_ at him.

Lucretia lived in an apartment over a bakery downtown. She’d beat them there, and answered the door with an unreadable expression. Her walls were all dark-paneled oak, but she had big windows that let in the evening sun. It was mid-May, now, and the sun was up even at seven-thirty in the evening. The effect was a weird, two-places-at-once one, like her living room was both a dark, claustrophobic study and a bright, open space. 

There was actually tea, which surprised Angus. Lucretia set down mismatched mugs on her coffee table. She asked Angus and Mavis what kind they wanted and if they took sugar or milk or honey. She didn’t have to ask Merle, just handed him his green tea. He nodded at her and reclined in the armchair he’d claimed. 

Angus and Mavis, for their part, were perched on the edge of the couch. Angus’s knee was going up and down at a frenetic pace. He couldn’t stop it. Mavis put her hand next to his on the couch, pressing the sides of their hands together, grounding him.

Finally, Lucretia sat down across from them. “So,” she said, “I understand you’ve been investigating me.”

Angus and Mavis glanced at each other. 

“How—how did you find out?” Mavis asked. 

“Merle told me.” Lucretia’s voice was calm and measured. “May I ask why you two decided to spend your time this way?”

Angus’s mouth was very dry. “I was—I thought there was something that didn’t make sense.”

“About me?”

Angus nodded again.

“So you thought you’d go around asking people I used to know questions about me?” When Angus and Mavis didn’t respond, Lucretia added, “What was stopping you from just asking me what was wrong?” 

Mavis said, “We didn’t think you’d tell us the truth, especially if it was serious.”

Lucretia leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers. “I see. And you felt it was important for you to know the truth anyway.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Even though it had nothing to do with you?”

“I—I guess so.”

“I see. Well, what did you find out?”

Angus blinked. “Ma’am?”

“You’ve been investigating most of the school year. What did you find out?”

This felt like a trap, but Angus didn’t think he could just not answer her. “You were—you’re a journalist,” he said, “but you used to work for the Neverwinter Post, as a foreign correspondent. You were covering a revolution, with Cam and Lucas’s mom, and then your location was exposed? That’s what Cam said. And Lucas’s mom died and Cam got paralyzed. Lucas thinks it was your fault but Cam seemed to think it was more complicated than that.”

Mavis elbowed him in the ribs.

“What?” he hissed. 

“Don’t just _say_ it was her fault!” Mavis whispered back.

Lucretia raised her eyebrows at them. “That’s quite impressive,” she said. “I didn’t expect you two to have gotten that far.”

Angus wasn’t sure if that was meant to be a compliment. Lucretia’s voice didn’t betray anything. This was not how grown ups typically behaved when he was in trouble, but also not how they acted when they were proud of him.”

“Do you want to hear the whole story?” Lucretia asked. 

“Yes,” said Angus, and pinned his arm to his side so Mavis couldn’t elbow him again.

Lucretia rubbed her temples, took a deep breath, and began. 

“It was my first big assignment out of journalism school. I was assigned to a team covering the revolution. I was with Maureen, the photographer, and Cam, another writer. The three of us were together all the time. We became a family in very real way. We depended on each other, and we loved each other. We had to, because otherwise it was too terrible to witness. Without some love, we wouldn’t have survived a week in that city.

“You can’t imagine it. I hope you’re never able to imagine it.People were killed in the streets every day. Children! There was no way I could stand by and watch that happen, not when there was something I could do to help. And that’s not all all, although it would have been enough. I could see the toll it was taking on Cam and Maureen. The psychological damage to live in that every day and try to stay objective… you can’t do that. It breaks you. And they were my family. I had to make something, _anything_ change.

“We’d arranged an interview with one of the rebel leaders. I stayed after and asked if there was anything I could do to help. At first it was just passing on information, it was just small things, but of course nothing like that ever stays small.” Lucretia’s face twisted into a bitter smile. 

“I don’t regret any of the work I did for the rebellion. I—it was the right thing—the right thing to do. If I had died because of it, that would have been a price I was happy to pay. But Cam and–and Maureen, they didn’t _choose_ to make the sacrifice. And because I made the choice for them, I lost my family. I ruined Cam‘s life and I ruined Lucas’s. And Maureen… I can’t even express how sorry I am about Maureen.” Lucretia paused, as if trying to steady herself. 

Angus and Mavis glanced at each other again. Angus wasn’t sure what Mavis was making of all this, but he felt equal parts guilty and fascinated. 

Lucretia sighed and continued. “We were staying in a residential neighborhood in an apartment away from the fighting—away from the worst of the fighting, anyway. We thought we were safe there. But there must’ve been spy or a double agent, or maybe I was just careless, I don’t know, but somehow the government found out about what I was doing. They kicked down our door in the middle of the night. All I can remember was this flash of light and heat and then—nothing.

“Maureen was closest to the door. She probably didn’t even have time to understand what was happening to her before–before she was gone. Cam was thrown against the wall by the blast. He is still writing, but they don’t think he’ll ever regain the use of his legs—I mean, you saw him. You know more about his situation than I do now. And I was in the back bedroom. My legs were shattered, but they healed, mostly. It was my fault and out of everyone I suffered the least. Any scrap of idealism I had left at that point disintegrated in the face of that unfairness.

“I should never have made a choice that endangered their lives. I don’t regret joining the fight, but I regret everything else. They were my—they were my family. And I ended their lives.

“So that’s what happened. That’s your little _mystery_ solved. I hope you’re happy with the information you’ve gotten Angus, Mavis. I hope this was worth the time you put into it.”

She put her face in her hands, her carefully controlled voice shattering. “Sometimes, when people don’t talk about something, it’s because it hurts them to talk about.”

“I’m sorry,” Angus said.

Lucretia’s head snapped up. “What are you sorry for?”

“I’m—I’m sorry your friends got hurt, Miss Lucretia. It sounds really terrible.”

“And?” Lucretia said. 

Angus looked at her blankly. 

Mavis rolled her eyes and said, pointedly, “We’re sorry we intruded on your personal business, and that we brought up bad memories for you.”

“Thank you, Mavis.”

Angus was, privately, not sorry at all. The truth was good, even if it was hurtful, and hiding the truth was bad. But he did regret hurting Lucretia’s feelings. 

“Does that answer all your questions?” Lucretia asked. “Can you stop your investigation now?”

“I-I think so,” said Angus.

Mavis said, “We won’t bother you anymore. We’re very sorry.”

“Then I think it’s time for you two to leave,” Lucretia said, standing up. 

Merle, who hadn’t said anything the whole time, also stood. “Come on, kids,” he said. “Dinner’s waiting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's one mystery solved! Stay safe out there <3


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW hospital setting, discussion of homophobia. Take care of yourselves <3

Magnus had his arm around Julia. He was in her hospital bed, hip to hip, with the adults had okayed because Julia still couldn’t move significant portions of her body. They were watching some kind of shitty sci-fi TV show and Julia kept making jokes about it and Magnus had never been happier to be watching bad television.

At least she was awake, and lucid enough to be bored. He, Hurley, and Sloane were taking turns hanging out with her after school, just so she didn’t lose her mind. They’d done their homework together today and eaten shitty hospital food, and now, as the sun went down behind them, they were all snuggled up. It was hardly a perfect day—two of Julia’s legs and her wrist were all still in casts—but it had been okay.

She was okay.

Magnus kept having to remind himself of that. If he let himself think about how much worse it could have been, even for a moment, the fear that swallowed him was absolute. But she was okay. He could feel her heartbeat where their skin touched, and she had eaten her jell-o with her fingers and when he offered her a spoon looked at him like he was an alien, and she was okay.

Julia kept glancing at the clock. When it turned over to eight, she sighed. There was a furrow between her eyebrows that hadn’t been there before.

“Hey,” Magnus said, “you good?”

“Yeah.” Julia sighed again. “Sorry, it’s nothing. I’d meant to be subtle.”

“Tell me anyway. If you’re okay with that.”

“It’s not—it’s not secret. It’s just stupid.” Julia glanced out the window at the twilight sky. “Tonight’s prom.”

“Oh shit,” said Magnus.

“Yeah, I mean, like, it doesn’t even actually matter because it’s just a stupid dance and I’m only a junior anyway, but. Apparently I’m a little salty about it.”

Magnus hugged her closer to him. “That sucks so much, Jules. After all that work you did to get the board to agree to the hotel thing—”

Julia shrugged. “It really doesn’t matter. I’m more disappointed I’ll be missing the last tournament, honestly.” She changed the subject, pointing out a rock that was made of foam, and he let her. She clearly didn’t want to dwell on it. But it _sucked_, and he had to figure out a way to help. Fuck if he had any ideas, though.

“Jules,” he said, lifting his hand from her shoulder. “Let go of me—I’ve gotta piss.”

Julia snorted and pulled away from him. “Thanks for sharing.”

“Sharing is caring,” he said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek and standing up. He flashed her finger guns from the doorway, and ran for the elevator.

Downstairs, in the lobby, there was a small gift shop. It was actively closing as Magnus rushed in, which he felt bad about, but this was an _emergency. _He shoved open the ice cream case, grabbed two ice cream bars and, for good measure, a plastic rose. He pulled two crumpled five dollar bills out of his back pocket and shifted restlessly as the teenager behind the counter rang him up, and bolted back to the elevator.

He burst into Julia’s room, all out of breath. She jumped a little.

“Magnus, you okay?”

“Yeah!” He handed her the rose and one of the ice cream bars. “Happy prom!”

“Oh my God!” Julia pressed a hand to her face. “Maggie, you didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to.”

“This is so sweet. I love you.”

“I love you too. Now scoot over!”

———

“It’s fucking hot out here,” Lup said, shielding her eyes against the sun.

“It’s almost summer,” said Taako. “That’s what happens.”

Lup shoved him and Taako laughed. Magnus laughed too. They were setting up for amtgaurd before the rest of the gang got there. Both of them had spent the week at Magnus’s. Magnus and Barry had gone with them to pick up their clothes and school stuff from their grandfather’s. They’d prepared for a fight, but their grandfather had seemed to not even noice the four of them trooping through the living room. Nobody was sure how the rest of the school year and the summer would work for them, but Magnus’s mom had said the guest room was theirs as long as they needed it.

“We should probably bring out more water,” Magnus said.

“Good idea,” said Lup. “Taako, go grab some more water.”

“You get it,” said Taako.

“_You_ get it,” said Lup.

As the twins bickered back and forth, Magnus squinted down the street at the approaching car. It was Carey’s, and it was coming in hot. It skidded to a stop next to the field, leaving tire tracks on the asphalt. Carey got out and slammed the door. She was halfway to Magnus by the time Killian and Noelle had emerged, her face stormier than Magnus had ever seen it. Killian ran up behind her.

“Care, I know it’s unfair, but—”

Carey turned. “It’s fucking barbaric. I thought I’d finally gotten away from this bullshit—”

“I know. I know.” Killian caught Carey in her arms. “It sucks. But it’s not what’s important. They can’t touch any of the important stuff. Okay?”

Carey deflated, sagging into Killian. “I know,” she said, almost too quiet for Magnus to hear. “I just wanted to dance with you.”

Noelle, who had finally caught up, walked right past Carey and Killian and announced to the profoundly confused Magnus, Taako, and Lup, “They can’t go to prom as a couple.”

“What the fuck?” said Lup. “I thought this school was chill!”

Noelle shrugged. “It’s? Not the worst. Like they’d be able to dance together—we’re a girl’s school so it’d be insane if we couldn’t—but they can’t get couple’s tickets. So Killian’s refusing to go on principle, which means Carey can’t go.” She leaned forward and added, in a stage whisper, “They’ve been like this for two days.”

Carey flipped Noelle off.

“That’s the fucking worst,” said Taako.

Lup put a hand on Carey’s arm. “You want to hit me with a sword a bunch? Blow off some steam?”

Taako said, “It always makes me feel better.”

“Yeah,” said Carey. “I think that’d help.”

Angus, Mavis, and Barry showed up while Lup and Carey were fighting, and the whole conversation moved on, but Magnus was still thinking about it. No prom for Lup and Taako, no prom for Julia, and now no prom for Carey and Killian. It wasn’t fair.

There had to be something he could do.

————

“Magnus?” Kravitz sounded surprised, which made sense. Magnus had his phone number for the amtgaurd group chat, but he’d never contacted him directly before, let alone _called _him.

“Hey, Kravitz. I have a wild, crazy plan, and I was hoping you could maybe help me with it.”

“I—Okay. I’m listening.”

Magnus outlined the basics of his idea, realizing as he did how poorly thought-out it really was. It had seemed so clever in his head. But Kravitz listened closely, asked intelligent questions, and added a few good ideas of his own.

“Honestly, I think it’s a good thing to do,” Kravitz said, when it was all laid out.

“Do you think your moms would be down?”

Kravitz hummed, considering. “I think I could make a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I outlined this last August, I did not realize the kind of resonance it would take on. Oops! Hope it's positive escapism. I know we could all use a bit of that this week.


	44. Chapter 44

On the one hand, almost nothing about Barry’s life had changed now that he was officially dating Lup. They already saw each other at fencing and amtguard and when they practiced music, and minus the week they’d fought, they texted each other almost every day. There wasn’t _time_ to hang out more, not with Lup cramming for her two APs and Barry working on final papers. So, no, nothing had really changed.

Except, of course, that _everything _had changed. Everything, everything, everything. They held themselves differently when they were together, no longer avoiding contact or pretending to be causal about being together. If he wanted to tuck a stray curl behind her ear, he could just _do that_. It was allowed. If she wanted to kiss him, she could—and it seemed like she wanted to a lot. The pretense was gone.

Their conversations were different now, too. They still bullshitted around a lot, but they talked about the future sometimes as well. Maybe they would have done that anyway, with Lup months from leaving town and Barry trying to figure out where he’d be over the summer, but there was a different quality to it. They’d decided that next year, when their vacations overlapped, Lup would come stay with Barry and his mom, and when they didn’t, they’d crash in each other’s dorms. Barry was determined to keep her out of her grandfather’s place. Taako could come too, obviously, although Taako’s future was even more up in the air than anyone else’s. He hadn’t committed to a school yet, and the deadlines were coming up. Lup didn’t like talking about it.

It should have felt silly, making plans when they’d literally just gotten together, but in a way, they’d been going on dates since January. They just hadn’t called it that. Also, Barry felt more confident in his relationship with Lup than he had in any part of his life before. It was weird. Confidence wasn’t something Barry really _did_. If he’d allowed himself to imagine dating her, he’d have thought he’d be insecure, paranoid, always expecting her to leave for someone who wasn’t so fat and awkward and messy--someone who deserved her. And yet.

Lup had chosen to be with him, and she’d done it on purpose. She chose him every time she held his hand, every time she sent him a little heart emoji, every time they kissed. And Barry trusted her taste implicitly. So if she liked him, he must be worth her time.

Barry was not used to thinking of himself as worthwhile. It would take some getting used to, but he thought maybe he liked it.

He honked the horn twice outside Magnus’s house, to signal his presence. He was slightly early for picking her up for music practice, but the door opened right away. A figure darted to the car, all blond hair and bright clothing.

It was not Lup.

“Hey, Taako,” Barry said, leaning across to open the car door.

“Sup,” said Taako, sitting down in the passenger’s seat. He left one foot on the ground outside the car.

“Are you—are you coming with us?”

“Nah.” Taako leaned back. “I wanted to talk to you for a sec.”

“Okay?” Oh, _there_ was that insecurity.

“Yeah. Listen. I wanted you to know I forgive you.”

“Oh, that’s awes—”

Taako put a hand up. “Hang on, broski, I’m not done here. I forgive you for hurting Lup, cause you’re making her so happy now, but I also want you to know that you’re on _thin fucking ice_.”

“Yeah,” Barry said, “uh, with me too.”

“Excuse me?”

“You were about to say something like, if I hurt her again, you’ll—I don’t know, whatever threat you were going to say. You’re way more creative than I am, I’m sure it would have been dope, sorry to cut you off. But I care about Lup _so much_. I’ll never do anything to hurt her on purpose. And if I hurt her by accident again?” Barry shrugged. “You won’t get the opportunity to hurt me back. It’ll be done.”

Taako blinked at him. “Jesus Christ,” he said. “You know you’re a little dramatic sometimes?”

Barry cracked a smile. “Says the guy who just came _running _out of the house to give me a shovel speech.”

Taako laughed and hit Barry lightly on the arm. “Fair point, my dude.”

“Hey,” Barry said, “once you’re done with the school year, want to hang out more? I’ll buy you coffee.”

Taako raised an eyebrow. “Do you think you can afford my Starbucks order?”

“I’ll give it a shot.”

“Of espresso?”

The joke was _so_ bad, and yet it sent them both into fits.

“Taako?” It was Lup. She nudged his knee with her foot. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re just hanging out,” said Taako. He got out of the car and clapped Lup on the shoulder. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

She aimed an elbow at him, but he dodged out of the way, laughing.

Lup climbed into the car. “Sorry, was he being weird?”

Barry shook his head. “It’s all good. You ready to go?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, I think that’s enough warm-ups,” Lup said. “Want to give this thing a shot?”

Barry made a face. “Yeah, okay.”

“Hey.” Lup sat down next to him on the piano bench, resting her violin on her knees. “What’s up?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be negative. Just, like, I don’t know if there’s any point. I don’t think I’m going to be able to get this right.”

“Bullshit,” said Lup.

“We’ve been working on it for months, and we still screw up the tempo changes every time.”

“I mean. You’re not wrong. But it’s only a matter of time before we figure it out, right?”

“Or maybe I’m just not a good enough musician for this.”

“Cream of bullshit.”

Barry laughed. “What does that _mean?_”

“It’s from this old TV show. It means bullshit. You got good at fencing, and you’ll get good at Salut D’Amour, as long as you’re not being a butt about it.”

“Am I being a butt?” Barry asked, mournfully.

“Yeah, but a cute one.” Lup kissed his cheek and stood up, readying her bow. “Now get that metronome going!”

Three false starts and one re-tuning later, Barry realized they were halfway though the piece, and neither of them had fucked up yet. Now that he’d noticed, he thought, they were doomed—but they weren’t. He hit all the tempo changes, all the slippery little crescendos and decrescendos, and so did she. He could hear, for the first time, how much the piece sounded like a conversation, that the violin and piano weren’t dodging around each other, but making room for each other to speak. He got, for the first time, why it was a love song.

They ended the piece in perfect sync. The last note hung in the air like a held breath.

“Holy shit,” Barry said.

“_Fuck _yes!” Lup threw her arms around him, knocking him in the chin with the neck of her violin. “We did it!”

“We really did,” Barry said, wonderingly.

“I knew we had it,” said Lup. “I mean, we’re amazing, right? Of course we had it. It’s just about practice.”

Barry wasn’t sure, although his alternative felt too silly to say out loud. It felt like their music was in sync because _they _were finally in sync.

————

Magnus burst through the door of the studio, making Lup jump. She craned around to see him—she was sitting sideways on the sofa with her legs over Barry’s (he was sitting like a normal person) and had her back to the door.

“Guys!” Magnus said, louder than was strictly necessary, “I have things for you!”

“Oooh, things!” said Taako. “Love to get things!”

Kravitz stuck his head though the office door. “Magnus, you have everything?”

“Yup!” Magnus let his backpack fall to the floor with a truly earthshaking thud and pulled a handful of papers out. “Here, Krav, help me distribute.”

Lup turned back to Barry and mouthed, _Krav?_ Since when were Magnus and Kravitz such bros? Barry shrugged.

“Here you go,” Magnus said, handing her one of the papers. It was just a sheet of printer paper cut in half (hamburger style, but unevenly), which read:

** _PROM!!!!!!_ **

_Cool Kids Only_

_Location: Faerun Studio of Dance Dress Code: Awesome_

_Time: 8pm-11:30 Cost: $0, but if u can pay 4 snacks, pls do_

The date was for Saturday, three weeks from then. “Holy shit,” said Lup. “Magnus, did you do this?”

“Kravitz helped,” said Magnus.

Taako shot Kravitz a look. “You were in on this?”

Kravitz nodded. “I got my moms agree to rent out the studio to us at a discount, and also to let me pay for it by teaching.”

“That is so fucking amazing! Oh my _god, _you guys, I have the _dopest _boyfriend!”

Kravitz laughed.

Magnus was still handing out invites. “For you, Ango. And Mavis, here’s yours. Merle, Lucretia, Davenport, we were wondering if you’d be chaperones. Krav’s moms have already agreed.”

“Sure thing,” Merle said, “but wouldn’t you kids rather be unsupervised?”

“We’re trying to make it feel like a real prom,” Magnus explained. “Also, it would be weird if you weren’t there. You’re part of the squad.”

“Is it just us?” Barry asked.

“No, it’s the whole amtgaurd gang. Carey, Killian, Noelle, and Julia. Also Sloane and Hurley, if they’ll agree to drive this far. Actually, that’s why we’re only going to 11:30 and not midnight—so the girls can get back to school on time.”

Lup was only half listening. She was staring at the invitation. It was hard to comprehend that this was real, that this was possible. She’d been making herself accept that prom was just not an option, that having a normal high school experience wasn’t in the cards for her. But now…

“Barry,” she said, jerking her head up. “Want to go to prom with me?’

“I would love to,” Barry said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay safe, loves, and donate to bail funds if you can <3


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw hospital setting, depiction of a medical emergency.

That Saturday, Mavis asked Merle if she could go to with him on his shift at the Raven’s Roost hospital, to visit Julia. She was a little miffed that she’d been left out of the big adventure in the middle of the night. The others had told her and Angus about it at fencing on Wednesday, and they made it sound so exciting! Especially the part about Magnus breaking into the ICU. It was irresponsible and reckless and thrilling, and she and Angus had been absolutely transfixed when they told the story.

But also, Mavis liked Julia, and Magnus had said that now that she was out of the ICU she was mostly bored, and so Mavis thought maybe she could cheer her up. Merle was willing to take her for a few hours, and so she went.

She spent the forty five minutes in the front seat of Merle’s pickup truck looking out the window and not talking to him. They weren’t _not talking _or anything, but since their fight over the bus tickets, things were more awkward than usual. And then he’d dropped Lucretia on them, and he hadn’t said anything about that either. Mavis kind of wished he would confront her about it. Even if he yelled at her, or said that she was irresponsible, or that she’d scared him, or whatever, would be better than him just ignoring the problem. It was so typical of him, she thought, the same shit as him making her get Mookie to eat when he was tantrum-ing.

But whatever. It was fine. He was driving her to Raven’s Roost, and that’s all she needed him for.

She parted ways with Merle in the lobby, heading up to the Pediatric ward. Julia was propped up in bed, looking dreadful in all her bandages, with bruises yellow-green on her uncovered skin, but she was cheerful when Mavis came in. She scooted to the side and made room for Mavis to sit beside her, where they ate pudding cups and drank Sprite Zero and watched _The Princess Bride_ on the small TV on the wall of Julia’s room. They’d both seen it so many times that they could quote along with it, and they did, doing over-dramatic impressions of the characters and laughing at the jokes before they were even told.

Eventually, Julia started shifting in the bed like she was uncomfortable. She hit the button for painkillers a couple of times and seemed to feel better for a few minutes, but then started to drift off. By the time the Vizzini was switching the poisoned cups, she was fully asleep, head lolling back. Mavis watched for a while more in silence, but eventually, she slid out of the bed and snuck out into the hall to find more pudding.

She was heading to the nurses’ station at the end of the hallway, wondering if this was actually allowed or not, when she caught a glimpse of movement through one of the open doors and froze.

It was Merle, standing next to a hospital bed with a kid in it. The kid was younger than her, fair-skinned and bald, wearing a hospital robe. She couldn’t guess at their gender—mostly, they looked tired. Their parents were in the room, too, looking at Merle like he hung the moon. He was talking animatedly, gesticulating with one hand. His other hand rested gently on the kid’s shoulder. The room was across the hall, far enough away that Mavis couldn’t hear what was being said, but she could see that the kid was laughing.

Then, suddenly, something changed. The kid stopped laughing, clutched a hand to their chest, started rocking forward and backwards. One of the parents started shouting for help. A high beeping filled the hallway, and moments later, two nurses rushed past Mavis, not seeming to notice her watching as they ran into the room. One of them changed something in an IV bag that stood next to the bed. The other fiddled with the equipment.

Mavis waited for Merle to slip out, to back away, but he didn’t. He stayed there with the kid, holding their shoulder, speaking steadily, until the nurses finished whatever they were doing and the kid finally relaxed, slumping back onto the bed. The kid looked up at Merle with huge eyes, holding on to his arm, until Merle said something soft, and the kid nodded and closed their eyes.

A few moments later, the kid was asleep, and the parents began to relax. One of the dads was crying—both of them hugged Merle, saying words that Mavis couldn’t hear but could only be variations on “Thank you.” Merle smiled blithely, hugged them back, said something that made them laugh. It was, all in all, a really touching scene.

Mavis couldn’t remember having ever been so furious.

She was shaking with it. Her face was hot and her hair felt too tight. Her stomach was all acid. She wanted to storm in there and scream at Merle, or punch him, or spit at the parents who were getting more of her so-called father figure than she ever, ever had.

But Mavis wasn’t reckless. She was responsible. She was steady. She found a bathroom and splashed water on her face until she cooled off a little—physically if not emotionally—and then got herself more pudding and Sprite and went back to Julia’s room. She sat there and tried to care about the movie until Julia woke up, and then she found it a little easier to be cheerful, with someone else to be cheerful for. The meds had made Julia a little loopy, and she cried over the ending (“They’re all so beautiful!”), and Mavis was able to laugh at her and comfort her like a friend.

But then, when Merle came to tell her it was time to go, she felt herself shutting down. She could barely muster a smile as she hugged Julia goodbye and promised to visit again. When she was out of the room, she jammed her hands and her pockets and kept her eyes on the linoleum floor. Merle asked her about her visit, and she kept her answers to tight, single words.

Back in the truck, with an eternal forty-five minutes back to Faerun, Mavis was buzzing with fury. She couldn’t sit still. She tried to play on her phone or stare out the window, but she couldn’t keep her brain on anything except how fucking pissed she was. And so, eventually, she said, “I saw you with that family.”

Merle glanced over at her. “Hm?”

“In the pediatric ward. With the kid who had that emergency.”

“Oh! You saw that, Mavey? Don’t worry, that kid’s gonna be just fine.”

“That’s—that’s not what I was thinking about.” Mavis was having a hard time keeping her voice level. She was worried she would burst into tears, and then there was no way Merle would take her seriously.

“What, then?” He didn’t sound concerned, which was probably good, but also made Mavis angrier. Had he not even noticed that she was upset?

“I just—things got, like, really bad in there for a minute, and you could have left, and you didn’t. And I just don’t—” Mavis’s voice broke, and she had to stop and take several breaths before she could continue. “I don’t understand why you would stick it through for those strangers, when you won’t do it for us.”

Merle didn’t say anything for a moment. Finally, he said, “Well, Mavis,” in a tone she’d never heard before. It was very measured and calm and absolutely the most patronizing shit she’d ever heard in her life. “At my job,” he continued, “I have to comfort people. It’s the whole reason I’m there. I can’t leave if someone is having an emergency, because then I wouldn’t be doing my job. But at home, when I was married to your mother, I wanted to be able to turn that off, to relax and recharge. And that’s not what your mother wanted from me, so we decided it wasn’t going to work anymore. Sometimes, ‘sticking it out’ isn’t helpful.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m an idiot,” Mavis snapped. “You _abandoned _Mom, and you abandoned Mookie and me. I wasn’t a baby. I saw what you did.”

“I—”

“You ran out in the middle of the night! You disappeared for _years!_” Mavis was yelling now, she realized, but she couldn’t seem to stop. “You never wanted to be our dad.”

“Mavey, I’m trying to be your dad now. That’s why I moved back here, why I’m doing fencing—”

“You want to act like our dad when it’s _fun_ and _convenient _but as soon as things get even the tiniest bit hard you run away! Over and over again. I thought that was just who you were, but no, you’ll hold some stranger’s kid’s hand through a fucking medical emergency, but you won’t even help me with my homework! You won’t even talk to Mookie when he’s crying! You’re a horrible dad.”

“I’m trying,” Merle said again.

“I hate you,” Mavis said.

Neither of them said anything else for the rest of the drive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last sad chapter, I promise! Stay safe out there.


	46. Chapter 46

The last tournament of the school year technically wasn’t any more important than the others—points didn’t stack or anything—but everyone acted like it was the homecoming game or some shit. Friends and family came out to cheer on the teams, giving the whole thing a festival atmosphere. It was not the sort of place where Barry could do his bio homework, even if he’d wanted to.

The bleachers were full when he walked in, alone. Magnus’s mom had taken the day off and driven Magnus and the twins, meaning that Barry walked by himself into a room of mostly strangers. He was hit by a stab of anxiety—what if he couldn’t find his friends? Was he just going to sit alone? He really didn’t have any right to be here, he was intruding, he was—

“Barold!”

It was Carey, waving from the gym floor. Barry waved back, smiling sheepishly. This was normal, actually. Weird how this had become normal.

Carey was pointing off to the side. Oh, _there _was the Faerun team.

Taako was the first one to notice him. He threw an arm in the air and called, “Hail and well met!”

Barry laughed and jogged over to fist bump him. Magnus gave him a one-armed hug and sped off to where Julia, Hurley, and Sloane were sitting in the bleachers. Barry waved to them, too, and got a two-finger salute from Julia. She still looked rough—she had an arm and a leg in casts, and he could see the scars from her stitches from here—but Christ, at least she was out of the hospital.

Barry sat down next to Lup, who was tugging on her knee socks. She kissed him on the cheek. “Hey, babe.”

“Hi, Lup.” Barry was about to say something else when Ren materialized in front of them.

“Taako, come meet my grandma Paloma!”

Taako shot to his feet. “Oh shit, she’s the one who’s been feeding me?”

“Yeah!”

“Lup, when Krav shows up, point him at me?”

“Sure thing.”

And then Taako was gone too, and it was just the two of them.

And, you know, everyone else in the world. And especially Davenport, who was sitting two rows behind them.

“How’d your last lab go?” Lup asked, grabbing her shoes from her bag.

“It was pretty chill. We made fudge, which is celebratory chemistry I guess.”

“Like, in the lab? Off the beakers and shit? Isn’t that dangerous?”

Barry shrugged. “I mean, not really. Everything gets sterilized. And anyway, what’s science without a little risk?”

Lup snorted. “You’re gonna blow yourself up one day.”

“Hey! Says the girl who lit her hair on fire!”

“Oh but that was for _food_, it’s totally different.”

“Uh huh.”

“What_ever_.” Lup stood and offered him her hand. “Shall we go get the schedule?”

“Are we still doing that?”

“Of course! It’s pretty much tradition at this point, right?”

“Yeah, I guess it is.” He took her hand.

On the way to the judges’ table, they passed the Wonderboro team, who were stretching. Brian was doing almost a full split, and Edward was doing everything he could to match him. Lydia was talking to their creepy, suit-wearing coach, but she raised her eyebrows at Lup and drew a finger across her throat.

Lup flipped her off. She was holding Barry’s hand super tightly.

“Hey,” he said, quietly. “You okay?”

“Of course,” she snapped.

“You’re gonna kick their asses.”

“Of course,” she said again, but a little more weakly. “I just—I’m running out of time.”

“Yeah. But you’re better fencers than they are, and you know all their tricks now. They’ve got no chance.”

Lup squeezed his hand. “Thanks. I’m not, you know, nervous or anything.”

“Of course not.”

———

“Merle, come _on! _We’re going to be late!” Mavis bounced in her seat as Merle straightened his truck. They were _in _the parking spot, who _cared _if they were even?

She wished he weren’t here with her, but alas, it was his weekend for custody. And he’d driven Angus to the tournament, which was pretty chill. He’d _also _brought Mookie, but Mavis was trying not to let it get her down. She was at a tournament! Next year she’d been competing! She couldn’t wait to be a high schooler.

Inside, the gym was bustling. She located Davenport and made a beeline for him, the others right behind her. It was super crowded though, and though she dodged past a skinny man in a suit, she heard him collide with Merle behind her.

“So sorry, I—Merle?”

Mavis turned around to see the man staring openly at her ex-step-father like he was a ghost.

“Hi, John,” Merle said, darkly. It was a tone Mavis recognized—he sounded just like he did when he was tired of talking to her mother. “Come on, kids, we’ve got to get seats.”

When they were out of earshot of the guy, Mavis stage-whispered, “Who _was_ that guy? Is he your ex?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” said Merle, which was as good as a yes.

———

They’d gotten crazy lucky with these match-ups, Lup thought, marking their latest scores down on the schedule. Everyone but Magnus consistently lost to Killian, and Magnus had been the one to face her, meaning they’d won all three bouts with Sweet Flips. Phandolin had been an easy win, of course (why did they even bother going?), and though Magnus had lost to Antonia and Taako had lost to Roswell, they’d swept everyone else.

The only team they had left to face was Wonderboro. 

First, they had a minute to chill. Their last set of bouts had gone quickly, and Wonderboro was still facing off against Sweet Flips. Lup sat on the bleachers by her bag, warming up her blade for lack of anything better to do, and listened to the others talk.

“—can’t _wait_ to be on the team next year!” Mavis was saying.

“You’re already better than half the kids here, Mighty Mouse,” Magnus said, and Lup didn’t have to look to know Mavis was vibrating with pride.

“Who else is gonna be on the team?” Taako asked. “Mavis here is replacing me, but who’s gonna take over for Lup? Davenport, you got any good beginners?”

“Actually, yes. I have one student who’ll be ready to move to the intermediate class in the fall, and he’ll be a freshman, too, so he can compete. I was meaning to ask you, Taako—would you be willing to tutor him a little this summer? Just so he’s ready to be on the team.”

“I, uh, I don’t know that I’m really the teaching type.”

Kravitz spoke up. “I know a bunch of boys who’d disagree. They haven’t shut up about you since December.”

“I mean, obviously. Who could forget all this? But a tutor? I don’t know.”

“Think about it,” Davenport said. “I think you and Joaquin would get along famously.”

Taako harumphed. “I’ll think about it, I guess.”

Lup glanced at her brother. His ears were fully pink.

Barry wandered back toward them all, and Lup got to her feet. “Team meeting!”

She, Magnus, and Taako huddled up, along with Barry.

“Why is Barold in the team meeting?” Taako demanded. “Is it boyfriend time? Can I go get Kravitz?”

“No,” said Lup. “Barold’s not here because he’s my boyfriend. He’s here to be a secret agent. He snuck over to the judges’ table to find out what the Wonderboro scores are.”

“What’d you find?” asked Magnus.

“Nothing good. Wonderboro is, so far, undefeated.”

Lup jumped in. “And we’ve lost two bouts. Which means if we lose two or three of our bouts with them, they win the tournament. If we only lose one, it could go either way, depending on how much we win or lose by. It’s not a chance I want to take. The only way to be sure we win is to beat them at every. Single. Bout.” She took a deep breath. “Taako and I graduate in just a few weeks, and so do Edward and Lydia. There will be no do-overs. It’s today or never. Everyone got it? Magnus, if you barf again, I swear—”

Magnus, who did look a little green, shook his head. “I’m okay. I understand.”

“You’re up first against Brian. Then Taako and Lydia, and I’m last, versus Edward.” She grabbed both of them by the back of their jackets. Her brother and her brother-at-arms held her, too. “I know we can do this.”

“Fuck yeah,” said Taako. “Let’s kick some ass!”

Magnus hugged them both.

Lup was overcome with pride, watching Magnus fight Brian. Brain held his sword away from his body, offering Magnus an opening—a trap. Instead of charging for it, though, Magnus advanced slowly, keeping an eye on Brian’s blade. When he was in range and Brian lunged for him, Magnus caught it in a parry and then—well, then he chased him down the strip doing a bunch of disengages, like normal. But still! Caution! That was growth.

Julia cheered from the stands. This must have sucked for her, to watch this and not be able to compete. Still, she had an astonishingly good attitude about it. Magnus blew her kisses in between points.

He beat Brian 6-10.

Finally, it was Taako’s turn. Lup hugged him, tight. “You can do this,” she said.

“Yeah, just watch me.” His voice was all bravado, but his arms were tight around her neck.

He faced off with Lydia. Lup tried to think of a time that he’d ever beaten her—that any of them had beaten her—and came up empty. Still, Taako was a sharper fencer than he’d ever been, and those dance lessons had made a real impact on his flexibility. They had a chance.

Probably.

Lup stood just beyond the strip with her arms crossed, watching. It was not a clean fight. The deliberate off-targets came often and hard, landing on Taako’s arms, legs, even his groin. Lydia _did_ get a yellow card for the dick shot, which she deserved, but it should have been a fucking red card. Couldn’t the ref see she was doing it on purpose?

Still, Taako was canny. He was smarter than most people gave him credit for. He’d noticed when she was going for an off-target and started counterattacking into it, not bothering to parry. If he did it fast, the ref wouldn’t notice he didn’t have priority. So as Lydia landed a hit on his _ungloved back hand_ (how the _fuck_ did she do that?), he got her in the side, and got the point. He was leading 4-2.

Eventually, Lydia realized she was falling behind, and started trying to actually hit Taako. She caught up infuriatingly quickly, closing the gap without letting him get another point. Taako rallied, pulling every trick Lup had ever seen him try, but she got a point for every one of his. After what was maybe the longest, most grueling bout Lup had ever witnessed, they were tied 9-9.

“Next point wins,” the ref announced, as though they could have forgotten.

Lup could see Taako shaking. She knew he was tired and hurting. She started rehearsing what she’d say to him if he lost, what she’d do to be comforting. She didn’t realize she was _also _shaking until Magnus put a hand on her arm. He was so stable. She slid her and into his.

Barry appeared at her other side, and she held his hand, too. How had she ended up with so many good boys in her life? It seemed statistically unlikely.

Together, they watched as Taako crouched in en garde position. The ref called, “Fence!” and the two of them began to move. It was cautious at first, small advances and retreats, little threats and beats. Each of them was trying to control the space without opening themselves up to attack. But Taako was letting Lydia get too close to him. She was shorter than him—if he let her get much closer, he wouldn’t be able to be accurate. Lup itched to warn him, but before she could let the impulse get the better of her, Lydia lunged.

What happened next was almost too fast to comprehend. As Lydia sprang forward, Taako did the same, counterattacking into her. She had priority, he was almost certainly going to lose, but—

Taako’s back leg shot back and he dropped, torso inches from the floor. Lydia’s blade shot over his head, and his caught her clean in the stomach.

Lup shrieked—she couldn’t stop herself—and clapped a hand to her mouth. Taako hung there, breathing hard, keeping his body just off the floor. She hadn’t known he was that flexible. It must have been the dancing, but _holy shit_. She knew that moves like that were possible, but she’d never actually seen one work!

The ref called the point, and the bout. Taako had won 10-9.

The Wonderboro coach, that creep John, was yelling at the ref about how that wasn’t legal, that couldn’t be legal, but the ref was holding his ground. “He didn’t turn his head or touch the ground, so it’s perfectly legal.” At least the old asshole was good for _something_.

Taako pulled off his mask and stumbled over to Lup, who caught him under his arms. “Taako, that was _incredible_!”

“I know, right? Hurts like a motherfucker, though. Hey, Mags, you got any ibuprofen?”

Finally, it was time for Lup herself. She saluted Edward, matching his smug grin with a smug-er one of her own. Nobody was about to out-confidence Lup. When the ref called _fence_, he leaped forward, and she scrambled back, out of his reach. He redoubled, and she parried, until he had her all but pinned against the end of the strip. He lunged, too close, and she went to parry, but his sword dipped low, hitting her in the thigh, just above the knee. It felt like she’d been punched. She stumbled, even as the buzzer went off and the ref called a halt. He ruled it an off target, of course. It was _so _off target that it had to be deliberate, but the ref didn’t give Edward a yellow card, or even call him out.

Lup fumed. Her leg ached. It didn’t matter.

Edward ran at her again, and this time, damn her, she counterattacked without thinking. They slammed into each other, his blade catching her in the collarbone, hers stabbing him in the side. And he had priority, so the point was going to be his. Fuck her, how could she be so stupid?

As they stood there, waiting for the ref to make his judgement, Edward whispered, “Think I can break a sword on you, too?”

Lup saw, in her mind’s eye, Taako fall to the ground, saw the bruise on his collarbone. She saw other bruises, too, every injury she hadn’t been able to protect him from for their whole lives. “I’m going to _fucking_ _kill you _now.”

“No talking on the strip!” The ref said.

Lup reset at the starting line. She was incandescent with rage, past angry and into a place where her brain was completely placid. She was going to kill Edward. It was that simple.

_Fence. Advance, advance, lunge, redouble with disengage. _Point for Lup.

_Fence. Parry, parry, reposte, parry, ballestra, reposte. _Point for Lup.

_Fence. Beat, disengage, lunge. _Point for Lup.

_Fence. Feint, lunge, redouble, redouble. _Point for Lup.

_Fence. Parry, reposte, insistence (messy, but it worked!). _Point for Lup.

_Fence. Press, disengage, lunge, redouble with another disengage. _Point for Lup.

_Fence. Fleshe from the fucking starting line. _Point for Lup.

By the end of the bout, Lup was pouring off sweat. Her hand was shaking, sore from so many impacts, and her knee ached, but she barely noticed. She pulled off her mask and gasped in the humid gym air.

She’d beaten Edward 10-1.

They’d won.

They’d _won!_

Taako crashed into her, smothering her in a hug. Barry was at her side in an instant, and then Magnus. Mavis and Angus came clattering down from the stands, and kids on the other teams started clapping and hooting, because _everyone _hated Wonderboro and Lup had won, she’d won! They’d all won!

She screamed along with everyone else. Magnus hoisted a cheering Angus onto his shoulders. It didn’t feel real.

But then Barry’s hand was on her back, anchoring her. “You’re astonishing,” he said.

She grabbed him by his t-shirt and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eagle-eyed readers my notice that there are now 49 chapters total, instead of 47. Someone's outline was mis-numbered, oops! We're a few weeks from the end yet :)


	47. Chapter 47

Taako’s phone buzzed beside him on the bed. It was Magnus:

_I’m going to ask Julia to marry me at prom_

Immediately, he was on his feet. 

_WHAT_

_MAGNUS WHAT THE FUCK_

_CALL ME RIGHT THE FUCK NOW_

Two missed calls later, Magnus finally, finally picked up. 

“Yello?”

“Magnus, you asshole, you can’t just _text_ a person something like that and then fucking disappear!” 

“Sorry, man. I was doing homework.”

“Well, I’ve got a new assignment for you—tell me what the legitimate fuck is going on!”

On the other end of the line, Magnus laughed sheepishly. “I guess it was kind of a dramatic thing to do.” 

“You’re damn right.”

“It’s just—I guess— okay. Listen. That night, when I got the call about Julia, and we didn’t know if she was going to be okay, I realized, like, there isn’t a future for me that doesn’t involve her. I was trying to picture it, and I’m pretty sure if she—if she hadn’t made it, I would stop existing. I’m not saying I was suicidal or something like that, I’d just pop out of being. I love her, and that’s not gonna change, and I thought she should know that.”

“Magnus,” said Taako in a measured tone, “that’s very romantic, but also, you are seventeen.”

“So?”

“So? So anything could happen in the next few years!”

“How is that different from when I’m twenty five? Or thirty? Life is always happening.”

Taako sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You can’t just fucking _do_ things, Magnus.”

“Why not?”

“Because—because what if she says no?”

“Then I’ll deal with it.”

“Okay, what if she says yes and then you go to college and fall for someone else?”

“Not gonna happen.”

“What if _she _falls for someone else?”

Magnus was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “That would suck a lot. But I still don’t see the point in not telling her how I feel. And weren’t you telling me literally yesterday that you think you’re in love with Kravitz? I thought you’d get it!”

“Listen. Kravitz is amazing, and I fucking adore him, but I’m not trying to put a ring on it while there’s still a ‘teen’ in my age! There’s too much uncertainty.”

“You’re not wrong. There’s a lot that can change. But Julia’s one of the only things I’m certain about.”

Taako didn’t say anything. The only thing he could think of to say was, “How do you know?” And he wasn’t confident he could get it out without his voice breaking. 

“Anyway,” Magnus barreled on, “If she says yes, I was going to ask you to be my best man.”

“Oh, come on!”

“I’m serious!”

“Yeah, I fucking know you are. I also know you’re praying on my deep-seated desire to plan your bachelor party.”

“Maybe. Is it working?” 

Taako could hear the shit-eating grin in Magnus’s voice. He sighed again. “A little. I still think this is a bad idea. But you're also, like, my best friend, and I’ll support you whatever happens, I guess.”

“Great! Because I really need help picking out a ring…”

\---------

Lup was trying really hard to have a good attitude about not having a prom dress.

Really, having a senior prom at all, even a DIY one, should have been enough. It was better than she had any reason to expect. She was going to spend the night dancing with her amazing friends and her super fucking awesome boyfriend (_boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend_, she still couldn’t think the word enough), and it was going to be amazing.

She’d look baller, too. She had a couple dresses she’d altered from hand-me-downs that were close enough to formal to pull off. That was how she and Taako had coped since they were kids messing with their Aunt’s sewing machine. If all their family would give them was shitty, busted hand-me-downs, their best revenge was looking better in them than their original owners ever had. It was amazing what a little bit of alteration could do to some too-big jeans and a t-shirt full of holes. Add some five-dollar drugstore fishnets, cheap, loud lipstick, and a confident swagger, and nobody ever guessed that the two of them didn’t dress like that on purpose.

Lup generally liked how she looked, and she was proud of the wardrobe she’d put together. But fuck, just once it would be nice to wear something new, something that fit her on purpose, something indulgent and pretty.

Taako had some secret prom outfit that he’d bought for cheap online with his babysitting money. He wouldn’t tell her what it was—he was keeping it in Magnus’s room—and it was absolutely infuriating. Her only consolation was that it was _also _a secret from Kravitz, indeed from everyone except Magnus.

“Just promise me you’re not going naked,” she’d said, and he’d only grinned that big stupid grin of his.

But whatever. Whatever. Lup had a paper to write, and she wasn’t moping about something as silly as a prom dress.

Lup’s phone buzzed on her desk, and she glanced away from her essay. It was Carey, which was unusual. She and Carey were decent friends face-to-face, but they didn’t usually text.

_Carey: Are u home?_

_Lup: ….yeah?_

_Carey: come outside! Bring ur purse! _

Lup was confused and maybe a little weirded out, but she grabbed her purse off her bed and headed out. Outside, Carey’s slick black car was idling in front of the walk. Killian was hanging out of the passenger’s side window.

“Get in, loser!” she bellowed. “We’re going shopping!”

Lup laughed and ran up to them. Noelle was grinning at her from the backseat, and Carey was behind the wheel. All three girls looked very pleased with themselves.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“I told you,” Killian said. “We’re going shopping.”

“We’re getting prom dresses!” Noelle said.

Carey flashed her a sharp smile. “Hop in.”

Lup hopped in. “You guys know I have zero money, right?”

Carey started off in the direction of the mall. “So you know my shitty parents?”

“I’ve heard of them,” Lup said.

“They keep thinking throwing money at me is an appropriate replacement for, like, giving a shit about me, which kind of sucks, but like, at least I can do something useful with it. Mom sent me five hundred dollars for my prom dress and another hundred for tickets, but since I’m obviously _not_ going to the school prom, and I’m just re-wearing a suit I already own. All I need’s a tie to match Killian’s dress and maybe shoes? Which won’t be six hundred dollars. I’ve given some of it to Magnus to get us good food, and I’ll need a little bit of it myself, but the rest of it is yours.”

“You’re kidding,” Lup said.

“Nope!”

Lup didn’t know how to feel. She was feeling everything; she was overwhelmed. “I can’t—”

“Don’t say you can’t accept it,” Carey said. “You can and you’re gonna.”

“Besides,” Noelle said, “there’s no way we were gonna get prom dresses without our most fashionable friend. And shopping ain’t fun unless everyone can get something.”

Lup pressed her palms to her eyes. “Fuck, guys,” she said. “You’re amazing.”

“We know,” said Killian.

“Fuck,” Lup said again, trying to get herself under control. “Fuck. Okay. Yes, let’s do this!”

The other girls cheered, and Killian turned up the radio, and they left the windows down and drove fast, and Lup’s hair whipped around her head and caught in her mouth, and she felt like maybe she was just going to ignite from happiness.

They parked outside the Macy’s. “Oh my God,” Noelle said as they got out of the car, “did I tell you guys about the discovery I made?”

“No!” said Killian.

“Okay so basically, you can paint the nails on a prosthetic, right? But the nails are made of the same shit as the rest of my leg, so I figured, why not paint the whole thing? It’ll come right off with nail polish remover. So I’m gonna find a short dress and paint my leg to match it!”

“Dude,” said Lup, “that’s so cool!”

“Right? My mom’d lose her shit if she knew I was gonna show it off, but I ain’t going to the school prom, so she never has to see pictures if I don’t want her to.”

“It’s the perfect crime,” Carey said.

“Damn straight.”

“What are you looking for?” Lup askedKillian as they walked through the automatic doors (Carey made a dramatic gesture like she was magic-ing them open, Noelle giggled).

“Just like a sundress,” Killian said. “Something simple, not too prom-y. No sleeves, though.”

Lup nodded. “Suns out, guns out.”

Killian elbowed her gently. “See, you get it. What about you?”

“I don’t know,” Lup said. “I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Well, they’ve got a fuckton of dresses here, so you’ll definitely find something.”

Carey added, “And if you don’t, there’s a Dillard’s just like two blocks away.”

They split up, with Carey and Killian going to look at the regular dresses, and Lup and Noelle making a beeline to the big, glittering prom section. Lup plunged her hands into the crinoline skirts, unable to believe her good luck—her good friends. Here she was, surrounded by dresses tacky and beautiful and both, and she could have basically any one she wanted.

She was maybe going to cry.

“What do you think of this?” Noelle asked, holding a shimmering silver dress up to her chest.

“I think it’s leaking glitter,” Lup said. “It’s cute, though—if you want to leave a trail on purpose, that’d be pretty badass.”

Noelle contemplated the pile of glitter the dress had left on the floor. “Do you think it’d lose all its glitter before I actually wear it, though?”

“Maybe.”

“I’ll try it on anyway.”

Lup turned back to the racks. What did she want? A poofy ballgown? A slinky short dress? Rhinestones or satin or velvet? Green or red or blue or orange or gold or— She started grabbing dresses in her size, almost arbitrarily. There were too many choices for her to know what she actually wanted. She draped dress after dress over her arm until she could barely hold them all. Then, Noelle, who had taken a much more reasonable number of dresses, stood on her tiptoes to wave down Carey and Killian, and all four of them headed to the dressing rooms. Killian had a handful of options herself, but Carey was empty handed. “I’ll pick out a tie once Killian’s got a dress,” she told them, and settled onto a bench in the fitting room so she could watch them all.

Alone behind the curtain, Lup contemplated her assemblage of dresses. She took the one on top, a blue strapless gown with rhinestones all on the bodice and stiff, many-layered skirts, and pulled it on over her head. She was wearing the wrong bra for this—the straps looked weird next to the bodice—and she was just in her duct taped converse, so the skirt was too long, but she didn’t think she looked _bad_ or anything.

She emerged from her dressing room at almost the same time Killian came out in a pink sundress that was just a ruffly hell.

Killian saw the look on Lup’s face. “Jesus, is it that bad?”

“It looks like the inside of a cat’s mouth,” Lup said, apologetically.

Carey said, “Killian, you could wear a potato sack and still be the most beautiful woman in the room, but yeah, that dress ain’t it.”

Killian took one of the ruffles in her hands. “Fuck.”

“Put on the yellow one!” Carey said. “That one was cute. Lup, what do you think of yours?”

“It’s okay. I’m not, like, crazy about it or anything.”

Killian said, “I like that blue a lot. But yeah, I think you can do better.”

Noelle emerged, then, in the glittery silver dress. “Lup, that’s pretty! Killian, are you—is that one a serious contender?”

“I guess not,” Killian said.

“What do ya’ll think of this?”

“It’s leaking,” Carey said. “I like how the skirt sticks out, though.”

Noelle looked beyond the skirt to the pile of glitter that was accumulating at her feet. “This may not be working.”

“Okay, everyone, round two!” Carey said. “Go, go, go!”

Lup tried on a poofy green gown next, which didn’t actually fit her, and then an orange one with a sweetheart neckline, which she thought was an actual contender. The others agreed—Killian made her twirl. She always looked better in warm colors, she thought, looking at herself in the three-paneled mirror. It seemed silly now to have pulled so many blue and green and purple dresses.

Killian stepped out in a yellow ankle-length sundress patterned with blue flowers. It had a little ruffle at the bottom, but was mostly simple, with spaghetti straps that showed off how buff her arms were. It didn’t look like a prom dress, but it _did _look cute. “This is the one to beat,” she announced, twisting to see her back in the mirror.

Carey grinned at her. “You look amazing, babe!”

“Is my butt all the way covered?” Noelle asked, pushing the curtain aside. “I can’t tell.”

“No,” said Lup. She was fighting with the fifty fucking layers of tulle in the one burgundy dress, and had emerged to see if it was supposed to be higher in the front like this. “But listen, if that’s what you’re going for, it doesn’t look _bad_.”

Noelle bit her lip. “It really ain’t, but thanks. I like that, Killian!”

“Thanks, I think this might be it!”

“Lup, is that dress supposed to, you know, bunch like that?”

“Scientists have yet to determine,” Lup said, grimly.

Eventually, they ran out of their first load of dresses. Killian decided on the yellow sundress, but Noelle and Lup both struck out and went back to find more options. Carey went to search for a tie, while Killian held their dressing rooms.

Lup had a better sense of what she was after, now. Warm colors, higher necklines, only one layer of skirt because while poof was _great_, she needed to be able to actually put the dress _on. _She drifted away from Noelle, toward the edge of the prom dress racks, where they started to become mixed with grown-up evening gowns. She had a few possibilities over her arm, enough that her shoulder was starting to ache, when she came across this simple red dress. It wasn’t loud in the way she typically dressed, but she grabbed it anyway, because why not?

“You ready, Lup?” Noelle asked. She had like eight more dresses, all in crazy bright colors.

“Sure thing.”

She tried on a gold dress that had these like greek goddess folds and clasps at the shoulder, which she really liked, and a clementine one with a short skirt which she _hated_. She was feeling pretty good in a dark purple gown—good enough to show the others—when Carey came charging back into the changing room.

“Killy! Killy, Killian, I’m sorry, I said I’d match you but—look at it!” She stuck a tie in Killian’s face. It was patterned with green and blue scales that shimmered under the florescent lights.

Killian took the tie. “Are you kidding me? Care, this is so choice! You have to wear it!”

“Are you sure? Cause you wanted us to match…”

“Hang on. Don’t move.” Killian bolted out of the room.

Noelle and Lup caught each other’s eyes. Noelle shrugged hugely, and Lup had to duck back into her stall to hide her giggles.

By the time Killian returned, Lup was in yet another gown (a glittery red wraparound that was leaking glitter as badly as Noelle’s silver dress). She stepped out just in time to see Killian running back in. She was holding a dress identical to the one she’d chosen, except instead of yellow, this one was green. “There,” she said, a little out of breath. “Now we match.”

Carey put a hand to her mouth. “Babe…”

And then they were kissing. With a shake of her head, Lup retreated back behind the curtain. People in love were still A Lot, and her being one of the didn’t change that. Lup had always been A Lot, so.

Noelle emerged sometime later. “I think this is the one,” she said. Lup stuck her head around the curtain to see (she was not entirely dressed yet).

Noelle’s “the one” was a short, shockingly bright pink dress. It was strapless, pretty simple on top, but with this voluminous bubble skirt that fell to her knees. The outer layer of the skirt was translucent tulle, stuck with huge pieces of glitter. The inner layer was solid pink, so that the whole thing wasn’t see through.

“You look like a piece of bubble gum,” Lup said, approvingly.

“It’s _so_ cute, Noelle!” said Killian.

Carey stood up and took Noelle by the shoulders. “Are you sure that’s it?”

“I—I’m pretty sure.”

“Then look me in the eyes and answer me one question. How much would your mother shit if she saw you in that dress?”

“She would shit _so much_,” Noelle said, her voice cracking.

Carey folded Noelle into her arms, and they stood together like that, hugging, for a long time.

Finally, Lup was faced with her last dress. It was the one she’d written off as boring, but grabbed anyway for—well, she wasn’t sure why. It had no embroidery or glitter or anything to make it _extra, _to make it _Lup_. But whatever, it was here, and she might as well give it a shot. She didn’t have the energy to get another dozen dresses, so if this didn’t work, she would probably go with the gold greek-ish one. Which was great! It looked really good! But somehow it wasn’t _perfect_. She wouldn’t be disappointed to leave with it, but…

But.

She stepped into it and did up the zipper. Fuck, but it fit her _exactly._It was a floor-length, boat-necked, backless crimson satin gown, tight on the top and through the hips but with a bit of a flare below the knees.She looked sophisticated, willowy, understated but still eye-catching.

She looked like Morticia Addams, but on fire.

Lup pushed the curtain open. “Guys…”

Noelle let out a high pitched noise. Killian stood up, like a reflex. Carey was right behind her. “Hey, Killian? I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can go to prom with you. It turns out I’m in love with Lup.”

Lup laughed. The tips of her ears were hot. “It’s pretty dope, right?”

Carey snorted. “Dope? Lup, it’s astonishing! Spin!”

Lup did, grinning. The loose fabric below her knees twirled out around her.

“You’re a goddamn princess,” Killian said.

“How much is it?” Carey asked. She didn’t wait for an answer, grabbing the tag that hung under Lup’s arm. “Oh, it’s _so _cheap! Lup, can I get you heels, too?”

“I—” Lup was, for once, at a loss for words.

“Let’s get some lunch before we go shoe shopping,” Killian said. “I’m _starving_.”

“Me too,” said Noelle. “Lup, get your clothes on so we can eat!”

So Lup did. She stared at the dress on its hanger. It really looked like nothing without a body in it, just a plain red dress. It was like nothing she’d ever owned. Despite Carey calling it cheap, it was easily three times as expensive as anything she’d ever owned.

And it was hers.


	48. Chapter 48

A blast of pop music nearly knocked Magnus off his chair. He gripped the top of the big mirror to steady himself. “Fuck, Kravitz!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” Kravitz knelt by the speaker, turning it down to a more manageable volume. “Well. At least we know the speakers work.”

Magnus hummed an agreement, returning his attention to the fairy lights in his hands. He was trying to find a way to secure them to the top of the mirrors in the dance studio, without leaving sticky stuff on the mirrors themselves. His use of clothespins had survived his startlement, which was encouraging. 

When Magnus was finished, he hopped down from the chair. “Ready?”

“Sure thing.” Kravitz moved to the light switch and counted down. “Three, two, one!”

Kravitz turned off the overhead lights as Magnus plugged the fairy lights in. The effect was stunning, even with the afternoon sun shining in through the lobby windows. The fairy lights glinted off the disco ball Kravitz had found in the studio’s storage and the silver tinsel Magnus had stolen from his mom’s Christmas decoration box. A couple of the speakers also pulsed with LED lights. The space was not transformed—it was still the studio where they spend every Wednesday sweating—but it was somehow elevated, like it was on a slightly different plane of existence. 

“Dope,” said Magnus.

“No kidding.” Kravitz glanced at his watch. “Hey, man, you’ve got to get a move on!”

“Shit! Can you finish up by yourself?”

Kravitz turned the lights back on. “I think everything’s done. I’ll put out the snacks right before I go pick up Taako.”

Magnus clapped Kravitz on the arm. “You’re a hero. See you later!”

Magnus knocked on Julia’s door, fully fizzing with excitement. His rented tux was uncomfortable—he wished he could get rid of the sleeves—but he thought he looked pretty okay. Taako’d given him a thumbs up when he left to get Julia, which probably was a good sign. 

Julia opened the door and threw her arms around his neck. “Magnus!”

“Hey, Jules,” he said, hugging her back. The poof of her dress pressed against his legs. He took a step back to look at her. 

Julia was wearing a sunshine yellow vintage-looking strapless dress that fell to her mid calf, with a huge skirt. It hid the worst of her stitches, although they were still visible below the hem. Her hair was in big, loose curls, held back with a yellow headband, and she was beaming at him like the sun itself. 

“You look amazing,” Magnus said. His voice surprised him—soft and awed. He worried at the edge of the ring box in his pocket absent-mindedly. 

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” Julia said. “There’s one more thing though—it might take a minute, tell your mom to come inside.”

“My mom’s not here.”

Julia frowned, looking past him to his mom’s car, parked at the edge of the street. “But—”

“I drove myself.” Magnus pulled his wallet from his pocket and showed her the paper provisional license. 

“Oh my God! Congratulations!” She hugged him again. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to surprise you.” He didn’t tell her the whole truth, which was that he’d gotten the license while she was in the hospital. He’d had to take the test four more times, but he’d eventually gotten it all right. He was never going to be stranded, unable to reach her, ever again.

She shook her head, still smiling. “I’m surprised, alright. Come on!” She pulled him into the house and up to her room. Her voluminous skirt filled the space between her bed and desk almost completely. She leaned over the desk to the cork board on her wall and pulled a pin out of a plastic and fabric rose.

“Is that the rose I got you in the hospital?”

“Yeah.” Julia produced a safety pin from somewhere. She glanced away, and then back at him. “I was wondering if you’d wear it tonight.”

“Of course.” Magnus stood very still as she pinned the fake flower to his lapel. He could smell the product in her hair. 

She stayed close to him when she was done, pressing her palm to his chest. “I just—I just wanted to say, thank you. It means a lot that you’d put something like this together.”

“What, the prom?”

“The prom, and the license, and coming all the way to see me when I was in the hospital—”

Magnus slid a hand around her waist. “I’d do anything for you,” he said, simply. “Most of that stuff was fun to do, anyway, but even if it weren’t—you’re my Dulcinea.”

Julia giggled. “You’re so sappy.”

Magnus didn’t deny it. “We should probably get going,” he said.

“Mmm,” Julia agreed, pulling him closer. 

They didn’t actually leave for quite a while.

——

It was weird to be in Magnus’s house without him there. Kravitz tugged on his suit jacket to straighten it, and raised a hand to knock on the door. It opened before he could touch it. 

“Come in!” crowed Magnus’s mom. “Kravitz, it’s so good to see you! You look great. Can I get you something to drink or anything?”

“No, thank you, Ms. Burnsides,” Kravitz said, feeling rather overwhelmed. 

“The twins are still upstairs getting ready. They should be down any minute. Don’t leave without letting me get pictures of you, now!” Ms. Burnsides moved to let him inside. “I made Steven—Steven Waxmen, that’s Julia’s father, you know—promise to take pictures, but who knows if he’ll take any good ones. Taako! Lup! Kravitz is here!” She directed this last bit up the stairs.

“Just a minute,” Lup hollered back. 

There was no response from Taako, which was a little bit worrying. Taako was getting better about talking to Kravitz, but there was still a little bit of Kravitz that worried Taako was about to decide that this whole vulnerability thing was too much and bail. He wasn’t going to do that on prom night, though, not when he’d spent weeks talking about this super secret outfit he’d gotten. 

Ms. Burnsides headed for the kitchen, leaving Kravitz to sink onto the living room couch. He fiddled with the end of his bolo tie. He was quire proud of the tie, which he’d made himself. It had a silver bird skull for a slide. 

Lup descended the staircase, hiking up her skirt so she wouldn’t step on it in her heels. “Hey!” she said. “You look good. Super goth.”

Kravitz was wearing a black tailcoat over a black dress shirt, which he supposed was a _little_ bit goth. Also the skull. “Thanks. You look good, too.”

Lup struck a pose, and then plopped onto the couch, propping her feet on the coffee table. “Taako’s taking forever, as usual. I want to know what he’s fucking wearing. I can’t believe he told Magnus and not me.”

“He didn’t tell me, either.”

“I know, he said. It’s inconsiderate. Like, what if you two’d wanted to match?”

Kravitz laughed. “Can you imagine?”

“Yeah, no, you two have _very_ different aesthetics. But still! It’s the principle of the thing! Like, Barry and I aren’t matching, but I at least sent him a picture of my dress.”

“Do you think Taako’ll be in a dress?”

“Fuck if I know. Whatever it is, it’s taking him _forever to put on!_” Lup shouted this last bit. 

Kravitz snorted. “We’re not in a rush,” he said. “We have half an hour.”

“Have you _met_ Magnus’s mom? We’re gonna need every minute for photos.” Lup’s words were dismissive, but her tone conveyed affection. Kravitz remembered Taako telling him about the way their grandfather ignored them. It must have been strange for them to be staying with someone who was so openly, noisily parental. 

“I like her,” said Kravitz.

Lup sighed. “Yeah, me too.” Then she shot to her feet. “Is that Barry?”

There were footsteps coming up the walk. “Probably.”

“Hang on. I’ve gotta make an entrance.” Lup ran back up the stairs. 

Kravitz watched her go, laughing quietly to himself. Lup could complain about Taako’s dramatic secret-keeping all she liked, but she was as theatrical as he was. He admired that about her, about both of them.

Barry knocked, and Kravitz let him in so he could avoid the Ms. Burnsides treatment. 

“Hey,” said Barry, bumping fists with him. “You look good.”

“So do you.” Kravitz had never seen Barry in anything other than his fencing whites or a t-shirt and jeans, but here he was in a charcoal grey suit with a matching vest. And—was that a pocketwatch chain? Kravitz, who appreciated good-quality menswear, approved. 

“Thanks, man.”

Kravitz retreated back to the couch. Barry made to sit beside him, but before he could, Lup made her entrance. 

She swept down the stairs like a movie star, skirt trailing behind her. She stood tall and elegant, one hand on the bannister, eyes lowered. It was hard to remember that like three minutes ago she was slouching on the couch with her feet up. 

Barry was staring a her in frank wonder.

Lup reached the bottom of the stairs, and finally met Barry’s eyes. “Look at you! You’re wearing real people pants!” 

“Lots of real people wear blue jeans,” Barry said, grinning at her. “Arguably, most of them. But check it out!” He pinched his bow tie, and Lup leaned in to see it better. 

“Barold J. A. Bluejeans, are you actually wearing a denim bow tie?”

Barry laughed. “I have an _A_ now, huh? What’s it stand for?”

“Adorable,” she said, and kissed him. 

“Gross,” Taako called from up the stairs.

Lup flipped off the stairs. “Are you coming down, dingus?”

“One second!”

And then it was Kravitz’s turn to be in awe. He stood, watching, as Taako slid down the bannister (because of fucking course he did) and landed, almost gracefully, on his feet. 

Taako was dressed from head to toe in lime green velvet. His jacket, his pants, the flocking on his shoes, even the top hat, which he swept off his head in a flourishing bow. It was loud and absurd and so impossibly _Taako_ that it took Kravitz’s breath away. 

Kravitz bowed, too, throwing himself into the ceremony of it. “You look—”

Lup cut him off. “Like a tube of go-gurt!”

“You look _amazing_,” Kravitz said, offering Taako his arm.

“Thanks, my fella. You look pretty sharp yourself! _Super_ goth.”

————

Magnus was super proud of the playlist he’d put together. It was crowdsourced from all his friends—his Celtic punk, Julia’s musicals, Lup’s sugar pop, Kravitz’s emo pop-punk (plus, oddly, Etta James), Sloane’s metal, Carey’s indie rock, and more. He’d spent hours getting the order just right, so that slow dances broke up the fast sections. The first fifteen minutes were mid-tempo, not super dance-y, to give time for people to mingle and get settled. 

And people were coming in, now. Lup, Taako, Barry, and Kravitz had arrived at about the same time as him and Julia, and Kravitz’s moms had already been there to unlock the building. 

Sloane!” Magnus called, waving, as she and Hurley dropped their purses. “You look like Scorpia!”

Sloane smoothed her off-the-shoulder black sheath gown. “That’s the best compliment I’ve ever gotten, Boyfriend! It looks sick in here. You really set this up?”

“Yup!”

“Shit. But then, you were always good for a hairbrained sceme”

He gave her a one-armed hug, and bumped fists with Hurley, who had somehow found a tux that not only fit her, but was pastel pink. 

Lucretia, all in blue, put a plate of cookies on the snack table and went to talk to Istus. 

The St. Ioun’s girls arrived next. “Noelle, your leg!” Lup said. 

“Isn’t it dope? Carey and Killian helped me with it.” Noelle held out her prosthetic leg, which was painted with swirls of different shades of pink, like if Picasso tried to paint a Barbie dream house. 

“It’s _so_ dope,” Magnus agreed. He hugged Carey, too. “Your tie is amazing!”

Davenport appeared, in a navy dress uniform that looked impossibly old, like older than Davenport was. Magnus decided not to ask. 

And finally, running just a bit late, as usual, Merle showed up with Mavis and Angus. 

“There’s my fancy lad!” Taako cheered, bumping fists with Angus. He was even fancier than usual in a little burgundy suit. 

“Hey there, Mighty Mouse,” said Magnus to Mavis. She was wearing a floofy lavender dress that looked kind of odd on her stocky frame. She’d walked in scowling, but her frown melted in the face of the twinkling lights. 

“It looks amazing in here!” 

Then, the first real dance song of the night dropped. Carey cheered and grabbed Magnus’s arm, hauling both him and Killian onto the dance floor. 

Everyone else made their way out, too. Almost all of them were self-conscious, not dancing super hard yet. _Almost _all—Merle was getting down with a vigor, and honestly, skill that Magnus had never seen from him before.

Magnus leaned down to Mavis.  “Mavis, Merle is, like, a really good dancer.”

“_I know_,” Mavis said, her voice dripping with horror. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prom! Prom! Prom!


	49. Chapter 49

Lup tugged Barry onto the dance floor, and he went willingly. He was completely sober. He was completely giddy. 

The song was fast, something that was too recent for him to know. Lup jumped up and down with the beat, hair shaking loose of its pins. Barry didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He was still a shitty dancer, still had no idea where his hands were supposed to go. He could remember how paralyzing that lack of knowledge had been last Halloween. 

But now? With these people? He’d seen them cry, seen them in their pajamas, seen them trip over their shoelaces and eat shit at amtgaurd. If he was awkward—well, they were all awkward. Who gave a shit? 

He bopped around, roughly matching Lup’s movements. The rest of the group crowded around them in a big amorphous clump. He made eye contact with Carey; she stuck her tongue out at him. Magnus was just to his right—he’d already shed his suit jacket and loosened his tie. Hurley, it turned out, was a really good dancer—her only rival was Kravitz, who was also the only one of them who had any social dance _training._

The song ended, and the next one began. This one was slow. It was one of the ones he’d recommended, an indie pop ballad about unlikely love. He held out his hand to Lup. “Do you want to dance with me?”

She grinned. “Are _you _asking _me _to dance?”

“Um. Yup.”

She laughed, taking his hand and placing her other one on his shoulder. “I’d love to.”

He took her by the waist, and abruptly realized he didn’t know what he was doing. “Uh, Lup—” 

Lup snorted. “Just, like, step side to side.”

“Okay. Okay.” He did, conscious that, despite the way they had their hands, she was mostly leading. She was close to him, her skirt swishing against his legs. The skin of her bare back was warm against his fingertips.He took a little bit of initiative, as the song reached a crescendo, spinning her under his arm. She laughed all the way through. 

————

Angus was fully overwhelmed. He’d sort of expected Mavis to stick with him at the edges of the party, but she’d headed straight for the floor, and was dancing in a group to some Taylor Swift song. Angus did not know how to dance. He wished he’d played Fortnite, like the other boys in his class—they all could do dance moves, even if they couldn’t _dance_. 

“Angus, may I speak with you a moment?” It was Lucretia, peering down at him. 

Angus’s stomach dropped. He’d been avoiding Lucretia pretty successfully this far, but it looked like that was over. “Of course, Ma’am,” he said, scooting off his chair and following her to the office. It wasn’t exactly quiet there, but it was easier to have a conversation. Lucretia directed him to the overstuffed couch, and he sat down beside her. 

“Angus,” she said, looking him right in the eyes, “Do you understand why what you did to me was hurtful?”

Angus tore his eyes away from hers to stare at his knees. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“And do you promise to never use your skills to be cruel again?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Good.” Lucretia leaned back, posture loose and calm. “In that case, I have a job offer for you.”

Angus blinked. He thought maybe he’d misheard her. “P-pardon me?”

She smiled, more genuinely than he’d maybe ever seen her smile. “You’re an excellent researcher, and you have a good nose for secrets. We could use someone like you at the Faerun Citizen Times—as a cub reporter, of course.”

Angus sat up very straight. “Are you serious? I-I would love to!”

“I’m completely serious, provided you cut the bullshit.”

“No more bullshit, Ma’am, I promise!” Angus could barely form thoughts. A cub reporter—a chance to _do_ something, something that didn’t accidentally hurt someone he respected—it was everything he’d been dreaming of. 

“Good,” Lucretia said. “You can start when your school year ends. We’ll have to work something else out when the fall comes, but let’s cross that bridge when we get there, shall we?”

“Absolutely!”

“And we’ll have to negotiate a few child labor laws, but, well, this isn’t the time for that.” 

She held out her hand, and he shook it, maybe a little too enthusiastically. “Thank you so much, Miss Lucretia! I promise I won’t let you down!”

“I know you won’t, Angus. Now let’s get back to the party! I fear the others may have started dirty dancing, absent one of their chaperones.”

“I think it’s called grinding now,” Angus said without thinking, and then shrank when she shot him a look. 

But Lucretia only laughed. “I think we’re going to get along just fine, Mr. McDonald.”

——————— 

Magnus collapsed into a chair, exhausted. He was _so _sweaty. It shouldn’t be possible for a human person to sweat this much. 

People were dancing, though. Nobody had complained about any of the music, not even Sloane, who hated most pop. They were eating snacks and talking and goofing around. There weren’t words for how relieved Magnus was to see his friends having fun. They deserved it, after the year they’d had. 

He watched Taako try (and fail) to breakdance, laughing quietly to himself. Julia and Kravitz were studiously waltzing to a song that should probably not be waltzed to. Noelle had a polaroid camera, and kept dragging people into better light to get pictures of them. Barry and Angus were deep in conversation on the couch in the waiting room. And Carey—

Carey was walking over to him. 

“Hey,” he said, gesturing to an empty chair.

“Hey.” She sat, fiddling with the knot of her tie.

“What’s up?” 

“I just—listen. I know that you put this whole shindig together because of Julia, because she missed her prom and everything, but like, I just wanted to say—thank you. I know you didn’t do it for me—”

“Carey,” Magnus said, cutting her off. “Of course I did it for you.”

Carey looked up at him, startled. “What do you—”

“I mean, I _also _did it for Julia, and for Taako and Lup, and a little bit for Kravitz, who wasn’t going to have a prom at all otherwise. But I did it for you, too. For you and Killian.”

Carey rubbed the back of her hand against her nose. She looked like she was trying not to cry. 

He held out an arm to her, and she leaned into it. It was hard to hug someone who was sitting in a chair next to you, but Magnus thought he got the point across. When she pulled away, expression a little more stable, he added, “Anyway, I didn’t sit through you freaking out over Killian all year to _not _see you two dance at prom!” 

Carey snorted and punched him in the arm. 

————— 

“May I have this dance?”

Mavis looked up at Merle, who was holding out a hand to her. Even though he was chaperoning, and he’d driven her and Angus there, they’d barely exchanged a word all night. 

“Okay,” she said cautiously, taking his hand. The song was a slow dance, and he put a hand on her waist and stepped from side to side, gently leading. 

“Mavis,” he said, after a moment, “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Okay,” she said again, not reassured. 

“Look, I know I’ve been, you know, not an ideal parent, historically. I’ve been a flaky asshole, and I really am sorry.”

Mavis didn’t say anything.

“But I saw you in your prom dress tonight, and I know it’s not your actual prom or your actual prom dress, but I realized, if I don’t get my shit together _right now_, I’m not going to get to see you in your real prom dress, or your graduation robes, or your wedding dress. And I want to. Being in your life is a privilege, and it’s one I want to earn. So, Mavey, if you give me just one more chance, I promise I won’t blow it. When shit gets rough, I’ll be there for you, always. I’ll be a real dad to you. So what do you say, Pumpkin? Can I have that chance?”

“Merle,” Mavis said, and she was horrified to discover that her voice was watery, “of course you can.”

He smiled at her, a full, warm smile that he usually gave everyone but her. “C’mere, kid.”

She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face into his chest so no one would see her crying, and he hugged her back, swaying back and forth there on the dance floor. 

Eventually, she pulled away and looked up at him through damp lashes. “I got mascara on your tie,” she said. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’ll take that as a badge of honor.” 

———————— 

Taako was showing off his new ballet skills to Angus and Magnus. He’d kicked off his shows, and was demonstrating just how far up he could go on his toes, when he glanced up and noticed Kravitz, standing by the barre, looking at him with just the softest smile. 

He’d never done anything to deserve a smile like that, but he was determined to start trying now. 

“Hey,” Taako said, abandoning the others to go stand by Kravitz. “Whatcha thinking about?”

“How much I’m going to miss you next year.”

And just like that, Taako’s good mood was gone. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

Kravitz held up his palms. “Sorry.”

“No, no, I asked. It’s whatever.”

Kravitz sighed. “Taako, I just—I want you to know something.”

“Oh, and what’s that?” said Taako, trying for flirtatious and nearly making it. 

“I don’t know what the world’s going to look like next year, or next summer, or anything. But I want you to know, wherever I am, you can be there too, if you want to be. And maybe you won’t want to be, especially if that looks like crashing on my parents’ couch or something, but. I thought you should know. No matter what, you’re always going to have a place to go.”

“Fucking hell, man, you’ve got to warn a guy before you say mushy shit like that!” Taako held on to the barre so his hands wouldn’t shake. There was less he could do about his voice. “Listen. I mean, right back at you. My whole deal is unstable as fuck right now, and I might not have a couch or even a floor for you to crash on, but—you’re gonna have a place in my life for as long as you want to be. Which, obviously, is forever.”

“Obviously,” Kravitz agreed. His eyes were so tender. 

Taako went to kiss him, but the song changed, switching to some truly ancient Panic! At the Disco song, and Kravitz lit up like a Christmas tree. “I love this song! Come dance with me!” 

—————

Piano arpeggios kickstarted a thousand butterflies in Magnus’s stomach. That low voice—it _was_ Elvis, he’d found out—singing gently, _Wise men say only fools rush in, but I can’t help falling in love with you._

Julia slid her hand into his. “They’re playing our song,” she said.

“You remembered,” Magnus said, relieved.

“How could I forget our first kiss? You almost headbutted me.”

“As I recall, _you_ almost headbutted _me_!”

Julia laughed, throwing her head back in that way she did, laughing with her whole body. Then she said, “Do you want to dance?”

“Of course.”

They stepped onto the dance floor. She put her arms around his neck. He put his arms around her waist. They swayed together, barely dancing really, just existing in the same space. She was warm, and the satin of her dress was slick and smooth.

Magnus was overwhelmed with love—for her, of course, but also for all of them. The song had gotten almost everyone onto the dance floor. Kravitz was lip-syncing along with the music, his eyes locked on Taako’s. Carey and Killian were trying to spin each other with quite a bit more energy than the song really called for. Hurley and Sloane were swaying like them, Hurley’s head laid on Sloane’s chest, eyes closed. Barry whispered something to Lup that made her collapse into giggles. Angus and Mavis middle-school-slow-danced, their arms locked straight, as far away from each other as they could get while still touching. Even Raven and Istus were dancing, familiarly, as though they’d done this a thousand times before. Davenport, Lucretia, and Merle were talking quietly by the punch bowl, and Noelle hovered at the edge of the dance floor, taking pictures.

He was so goddamn lucky to have all of them.

What was he going to do next year?

What was he going to do if Julia said no?

When the song ended, Magnus leaned in to Julia and asked, “You want to step outside for a moment?”

“For sure!”

So he took Julia by the hand and pulled her out the front doors. It was cool out, and the streets were quiet. He said, “I have a question for you.”

She smiled, glanced down at her shoes. “I actually have something to ask you, too.”

“Oh! Uh, then you should go first.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.”

“Okay. Uh.” Julia ran her fingers through her hair and let out a nervous laugh. “I’ve been practicing this in my head for weeks, and now I’m freaking out. Okay. Listen. You and I—we’re really young. Like, _really_ young and so much can change between now and when we’re, like, actually adults but this?” She laid a hand on his chest. “Us? This is everything I want. Forever. So like, do you, eventually, want to marry me?”

Magnus was grinning so hard he thought his head was going to split in half. “Hold on,” he said, and let go of her hand, digging around in his jacket for the little box he’d been carrying around all night. “I cannot _believe _you beat me to it,” he said, opening the box to reveal the wooden ring.

Julia’s hand shot to her mouth. Her eyes were huge. “Oh my God,” she said in a slightly strangled tone.

“I was going to get down on one knee and everything.”

“You can—you can still do that.”

So Magnus dropped to one knee, right there on the sidewalk. He held out the box they way he’d seen people in movies do it and said, “Julia, all that stuff you said about us being super young? You’re totally right. This is a bad idea. But I love you, and I’m not ever going to stop, so will you marry me anyway?”

Julia laughed, warm and bright as sunshine. “Of course! Now stand up so I can kiss you without wrecking my dress.”

He did, and she did, and then he slid the ring onto her finger (“Do you put an engagement ring on your ring finger?” “How the fuck should I know?”), and she slid her hand into her crook of his elbow, and they walked back inside.

Taako saw them come in, and shouted across the dance floor, “What’d she say?”

“She asked me first!” Magnus called back.

“Hell yeah!”

“Wait,” said Lup, “what’s happening?”

“We’re engaged!” said Julia.

“Are you serious?” said Mavis, at almost the same time as Barry said, “What the fuck?”

Julis held up her hand. Magnus slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her into him.

Everyone lost their fucking minds, but it didn’t matter, because Julia was next to him. Julia was going to marry him.

——————

Taako collapsed into his chair, winded and thirsty. He downed half a glass of sparkling grape juice and then pulled out his phone, just intending to check the time. 

There was an email notification on his screen from Neverwinter U. 

His heart stopped. He thumbed open the email, scanned it—_We are delighted to inform you of your acceptance…_

Taako jumped to his feet. He pushed into the crowd, to where Lup was still dancing with Barry. “Lup,” he said, “come outside with me now.”

“Taako, I’m kind of—” Lup turned, saw the look on his face. “I’ll be right back, babe,” she told Barry, and then followed Taako to the street out front of the studio. “What’s wrong?” she asked. 

“Nothing. Just—look.” He handed her the phone. 

She stood there a moment, reading, forehead creased, and then her face split into a huge smile and she threw her arms around him. “You got in!” she screamed.

“Ow, fuck, Lup, that’s right in my ear!”

“Sorry.” She stepped back, still holding onto his arms. “Holy fuck. You got in!”

“I got in.” Taako wasn’t sure why he also wasn’t screaming. He still mostly couldn’t believe it. It was his dream school, and also Lup’s dream school, the one she was going to. They were going to go to college together. 

“Let’s accept the offers,” Lup was saying. “Let’s do it right now, at the same time.”

“Wait,” Taako said. “I thought you’d already accepted yours.”

Lup looked down. “I—I meant to,” she said. “But every time I went to do it, it just felt weird, you know? Like, I kept thinking about our fight, and just, feeling so shitty that I—I just kept putting it off. And it turns out I was right to, because now we get to do this together!”

“Hell yeah!”

Lup darted back inside to get her phone, and when she came back, Taako was already at the acceptance screen. “You ready?” he asked. 

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

They counted down, and clicked the button at the exact same time. The drama of the moment was slightly undercut by the form they had to fill out on the other side of the button, but it was still, Taako thought, pretty fucking cool. Worthy of them. 

“I wonder,” Taako said, deliberately casual, “if there’s any way to get a single dorm as a freshman.”

Lup blinked at him. “What—”

“I mean, I’m not going to live with my _kid sister_. How would I have my boyfriend over?”

“Taako—” Lup put her hand to her mouth. She understood what he was doing—she had waited for him, so they could stay together, and in return he would give her some space, so they both could grow up. She hugged him again, and he hugged her back. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“I love you, Lulu.”

“I love you, too, Taako.”

———— 

The last song of the night was Don’t Stop Believing, because of course it was. Magnus had the biggest, cheesiest grin Barry’s ever seen when those first chords rang out. They didn’t even dance to it, not really. Magus put an arm around Julia, and another around Carey, and then, quite organically, they were all arm-in-arm in a big circle, swaying and scream-singing the lyrics. 

Everyone was belting loud enough to cover Barry’s scratchy voice, but honestly, he wasn’t paying attention to that. There was no alcohol at the party, but he felt drunk. Not drunk, exactly—unselfconscious. With Lup pressed against one side of him and Taako on the other, and all his friends around him, sweaty and loud and hilarious and triumphant, he didn’t need to worry about how he appeared in the outside. He could be weird and awkward and morbid, and he could fuck up and say the wrong thing, and he could blush every fifteen seconds, and it wouldn’t matter. 

Because they loved him, and he loved them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm planning to put up a little epilogue next week, but it felt right to put the thank yous here, since this is the last story chapter. So, here's that. 
> 
> First, to the people who will never read this. Obviously, none of this would be possible without the gentlemen McElroy. TAZ genuinely changed my life, and I'm so, so grateful to have found it. Also to AO3 users Chemicallywrit and miceenscene, authors of Bureau of Badass, a fic that influenced this one arguably as much as the source material. If yall haven't read that, you should. 
> 
> Second, to my best friend, ㄥ(⸝ ، ⸍ )‾‾‾‾‾. Thank you for getting me to listen to TAZ in the first place, and super extra thank you for listening to me talk about this fic literally since last May. You'd be a hero just for that. The fact that you're incredible in every other way is just icing on the cake! 
> 
> To my mom, who, despite not knowing anything about TAZ, decided to read this fic anyway, just to be supportive. I love you so much! I hope you've enjoyed watching me regurgitate my entire adolescence onto the internet. 
> 
> And finally, to all of you. Everyone who read this, who left comments and kudos. All of you mean the world to me. I'm not kidding--every time I get an email about a comment or a kudo, it makes my whole day. 
> 
> Special shout outs to my regulars, BarryJayBluejeans, atticusblackwolf, thebiggestyamfan, punkwildebeest, duplexviking, RavenDreamer, chasingconstellations, KanarandTarkaleanTea, KittyKitty, LuxM2, a_big_apple, ShadowAndPurgatory, Calliopes_Quill, fallingoceans, Jaquese, PrettyLittleMonster, TooOceanBlue, aroyalmess, the_useless_pineapple, 15Acesplz, and heyitssnek. I keep an eye out for you. I'm so grateful that you've decided to stick around. 
> 
> Also! To guest Planty, who left me a whole essay in the comments. To BarryJayBluejeans, who always signal boosts me on tumblr, you're a real one. To the tumblr user who messaged me to say this fic inspired you to start fencing--when I say I CRIED! 
> 
> Now, for the FUTURE! 
> 
> I will be posting an epilogue next week. After that, I'm going to post one of the prompt from months ago every week (I'm so sorry it's taken me this long to get to them--in my defense, I could not have known when I promised to write them that the world was about to break) until they're all done. I have a few other little side scenes I may post as well. Everything will be a part of this series, so it should be easy to find. 
> 
> This fic--and all of you--have seen me through three job changes, two moves, and the start of a global pandemic. It's been a consistent source of joy and stability for me. I just hope you all have had half as much fun reading it as I have writing it. 
> 
> All my love,
> 
> The_Z


	50. Epilogue

Five Years Later

Carey was waiting for Magnus at the baggage claim of the tiny Faerun airport. When he saw her, he broke into a run, and so did she, and they crashed into each other in a huge hug.

“Hey, Lizard Girl,” Magnus said, lifting her off her feet. They hadn’t seen each other in almost a year, since last summer vacation. “I missed you.”

“Yeah, you too. You sap.”

He set her back down. “How’re we doing on time?”

“We’re T-minus six hours! So, like, let’s get a move on. You got any bags?”

“Just these.” Magnus hefted his carry-ons. As he followed Carey toward her car, he said, “I can’t believe it’s already today.”

Carey snorted. “What do you mean, _already_? Like you didn’t get hitched two fucking years ago. Already, my ass.”

It was true. Magnus and Julia had planned to do what Carey and Killian were doing, to wait until they’d graduated college before getting married, but, well. Neither of them were especially good at waiting. “Fair point,” Magnus said. “But still. Time moves fast.” He tossed an arm across her shoulders. “Did you ever think, when we first started fencing together, that I’d be the best man at your wedding?”

Carey laughed. “I didn’t think I’d ever get married. Fuck, like, there were times in high school when I wasn’t sure I’d still be alive now.”

Magnus squeezed her around the shoulders. “I’m proud of you.”

“You dork.” She stopped by her car, a much less glamorous vehicle than she’d driven in high school. When all Magnus’s stuff was in the trunk and he’d squeezed himself into the front seat, she asked, “Is the job any better?”

Magnus shrugged. Since graduating, he was working for a fancy furniture store where he had to wear a suit every day and try to convince rich people to spend more of their money. It sucked, but at least it left him enough time to work on his own projects. Also, it paid pretty well, which was good because, you know, _someone_ had to cover their rent. Between law school and volunteering at the immigration law clinic, Julia didn’t have time for it to be her.

On the other hand, she was on summer break right now, and had spent the last week at home visiting her dad, while he’d had to use one of his meager vacation days to come down just for the wedding.

“Not really. But the owner said she’d come around and look at my stuff, maybe buy some for the store. I don’t know if it’s going to go anywhere, but—”

“Magnus, that’s so cool! Obviously she’ll love them.”

“I hope so. It’d be nice to, you know, get my name out there or whatever.”

Carey drove out past the edge of town, toward the little vacation cottage they’d rented for the wedding. As they passed through pine woods, heading vaguely toward Felicity, she grew quiet. She looked out at the road like it was going to melt in front of her.

“You okay, Care?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just—fuck, Magnus, everything is going to change now, isn’t it? We’re barely grown-ups. And like, I love Killian, I love her so much, but—this is gonna be my whole life. That’s crazy. Is this crazy? Am I going crazy?”

“You’re not crazy.It’s scary, to make a decision that you mean to be permanent.”

“It’s just—” Carey flexed and relaxed her fingers on the steering wheel. “I’m not very good at being, like, consistent or stable or shit. What if I change too much? What if, in five years or twenty years or whatever, I’m not a person Killian’s in love with anymore?”

“Well, I mean, you are going to change. Like, you’re a fully different person than you were when I met you. That’s just how life is. But the cool thing is, you get to change _with her_ now, and she’s going to change with you. You’re gonna grow together. I wish I could tell you that every day from now on is gonna be sunshine and rainbows, but obviously, that’s not how life works. But listen—every day will be made better because she’s in it with you. You aren’t going to be alone ever again. Even if you’re ever separated, you’ll still never be alone.”

Carey let out a watery laugh. “Thank God I haven’t put on my makeup yet.”

They pulled up a steep driveway, and emerged into a clearing. It was a big, green field with a cute two-story house set back at one end. The whole thing was encircled by thick woods, just starting to turn orange as summer ended. Several cars were already parked by the house. Barry and Kravitz were out front, standing on folding chairs, trying to hang garlands.

Magnus took Carey’s hand. “You ready?”

“I’m ready.”

“Go get your clothes on. I’ll come find you in a bit, okay?”

“Yeah.” Carey gave him a one-armed hug, and then made for the house.

Magnus exchanged hugs with Kravitz and Barry, and then followed the sound of bickering inside to the kitchen. Taako was standing over a huge pot of something awesome-smelling. Lup sat on the counter beside him, kicking her feet. There was a piping bag in her hand.

“Magnus!” said Taako. “Tell my sister that it’s too early to frost the cake!”

“It’s been cooling for forty-five minutes,” Lup said, just this side of whine. “We’re gonna run out of time!”

“We have _five hours!_”

“And I have to pipe _five hundred _roses!”

“Guys?” Magnus said. “I’m just in here for hugs. I don’t know shit about cake.”

Lup rolled her eyes and slid off the counter. “It’s good to see you, dork.”

She hugged him and Taako hugged him, transferring a decent chunk of the food splatter on his apron onto Magnus’s t-shirt.

“Do either of you know where Julia is?”

Lup said, “I think she’s upstairs? Last I heard she was bringing the flower stuff up to Killian.”

“Dope. See you guys in a bit.” Magnus made for the stairs. He nearly crashed into Mavis, who was carrying a huge box of fairy lights that totally obscured her vision.

“Shit, sorry Magnus!”

“You’re good. Can I help with that?”

Mavis shifted the box to her hip. It was remarkable how much more grown-up she looked now, despite not being a single inch taller than she’d been at fourteen. Her hair was braided and pinned in an elaborate updo, but she was still wearing a tank top and shorts. “Nah, I’m good. It’s not heavy, just big. If you’re looking for something to do, though, there’s a bunch of folding chairs in the back that need to go out. Dad’s supposed to be doing it, but you know him, he’s probably gotten distracted by a cool leaf or something.”

That was a newish development, too, Mavis calling Merle “Dad.” She’d only started doing it like a year and a half ago.

“Noted,” Magnus said. “I’m actually looking for Julia right now, but after that—”

Mavis flashed him a finger gun with her one free hand and carried on down the stairs.

Magnus found Julia sitting on the floor of the upstairs hallway, sorting out a box of colored ribbon. She stood when she saw him. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Almost six years since their first kiss, a year and a half into their marriage, and just the sight of her took his breath away. He kissed her. “I missed you.”

“It’s been five days,” Julia protested, but she was smiling. She leaned into him. “I missed you, too. Want to help me?”

“Sure.” He sat down beside her, watching her as she explained her sorting methodology to him. He ran a thumb over the scar on her thigh. It was faint, now, just a thin white line on her brown skin, but he’d never forget that it was there. He had nightmares about the night he’d almost lost her. Less frequently, now, though. And when they did come, he’d wake up and see her next to him, alive and real and with her hair taking up half the bed.

He helped her sort ribbons and tie them onto mason jars for like two hours, until Taako hollered up the stairs, “Angus brought lunch!”

They all gathered in the kitchen, the whole set-up crew, for sandwiches Angus had brought from downtown. Carey and Killian didn’t come down—they were still sequestered in separate dressing rooms upstairs—but Noelle brought them both food. It seemed wild that Angus could drive, now, wilder that he’d be starting college in just a few weeks.

Taako said, “I can’t believe how fucking tall you are,” pretending to elbow Angus in the gut.

Angus, who was approaching Magnus’s height and also breadth, just laughed. “I got you one with that aioli you like, sir.”

“Give me that!” Taako snatched at the sandwich, but Angus held it up over his head, just like Taako used to do with Angus’s glove. Taako cursed at him, but without venom, and after a minute Angus surrendered the sandwich.

The next several hours were a whirlwind of set up, of table cloths and tea lights and folding chairs, of cufflinks and heels and hairpins and last-minute stain removal. And then it was time for the wedding. Merle was officiating. Killian’s whole extended family was present; Carey’s older brother Jeremy was her only family there. Magnus started crying when he saw Carey in her vest and Killian in her sari, and didn’t stop. He cried so much that Julia actually snuck him a water bottle in the middle of the service, afraid that he’d dehydrate himself.

After the service, everyone helped turn the rows of chairs into a dining area. Mookie, fifteen now but with no less energy, ran around distributing silverware at superhuman speeds. Killian sent Magnus and Barry to go get the foldable dance floor from the house. The two of them dodged the bucket brigade that Taako was commanding, getting food from the kitchen to the tables. His voice _carried_.

“So,” said Magnus, hoisting his end of the floor, “will we be having one of these shindigs for you and Lup any time soon?”

Barry blushed crimson. He’d become a lot more self-assured in the years since Magnus had met him, but some things would never change. “I—I don’t know. Maybe when we’re both out of grad school, you know. I don’t want to rush into anything.”

Magnus laughed and laughed.

——

There were so many stars. Barry had been living in Neverwinter for two years, and he’d forgotten how many stars you could see from Faerun. He was one of the only people sitting at the tables—most of the older folks had gone home, and all the young people were still dancing, but he was looking at the stars.

“Hey, babe.” Lup collapsed into the chair next to him. “You good out here?”

“Yeah.” He slid his hand into hers. “I didn’t mean to worry you. You looked like you were having fun.”

“I am. But I missed you.”

“I’ll dance with you, if you want.”

“Nah, it’s chill.” She shifted to lay her head on his shoulder. He put an arm around her. It was cool out, after dark, and now that she wasn’t dancing, her arms were covered in goosebumps.

“Magnus asked me if we’d be doing one of these. Can you imagine?”

“Yeah, actually. I can. We’re gonna need a fuckton more money to do it right, though. Like, I want a big, glittery ballroom and pink champaign, all that shit. None of this rustic nonsense.”

Barry snorted. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“What would you want? I bet you’d want to get married in the lab, amongst the beakers.”

“Amongst?”

“I said what I said.”

“I don’t know,” Barry said. “I guess I’d never really thought about it.”

“Well, get thinking. I’m not planning a wedding all by myself.” She sighed and leaned into him further. “I gotta say, though, Carey and Killian couldn’t have picked a better night for it. Every day should be like today.”

“It should. We’ve earned it.”

“Damn straight. It’s beautiful out here.”

“Gorgeous,” Barry agreed, but he wasn’t looking at the stars or his dancing friends or the dark shapes of the pines.

He was looking at Lup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "That was the happy ending you earned."
> 
> Thank you all so much. I love you all. I've had an amazing time, and I hope you have, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Find me on tumblr @The-Z-Part!


End file.
